


Hello, Goodbye

by standtooclose



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/standtooclose/pseuds/standtooclose
Summary: Life had felt so ordinary before Dean Winchester came into his life.After believing he was being stalked by Dean, he realizes it was for his own safety.  And even when he starts to get irritated by Dean's actions, Castiel can't help but feel like he was falling for the man.  But even as they promise to love each other forever, there are problems they cannot avoid, and reality will one day come at them.





	1. One; Parties and Boys

"He looked into the eyes of pure gold,

Letting himself unfold,

For he knew that they condemned him to hell."

 

 

He could only smell liquor and cigar. The bodies moved like a current, moving up and down in a perfect flow--a perfect rhythm. He moved with them, his feet lifting and landing on the solid floor, the lights tinting his skin an emerald green. His heart moved at an uneasy beat, his breath coming out ragged, but the constant thrill kept him moving to the beat. The Weeknd blasted through the speakers, vibrating through his bones.

Hannah--a girl from his high school--danced close beside him, moving her hands slowly up his waist. His sides tingled at the touch, his blue eyes fixing on her gaze. Her dark, brown eyes looked up at him through her lashes, a playful grin spreading across his lips. He grinned back, still moving to the beat.

After at least an hour of dancing to the Weeknd, a slow and beautiful sound filled the house, all of the people slowing their moves and picking a partner. A slow dance, if he recalled it correctly. Hannah, shyly, moved her hands up his sides, fixing them on his broad shoulders.

"Cas?" She whispered loud enough for him to hear. He smiled softly, moving his hands to her waist, holding her carefully. She had a relieved look in her eyes, and slowly, her body sank into his own.

They moved slowly like a rock of a ship, slowly moving through an ocean. He breathed in her scent as he rested his chin in her hair, slowly rocking them back an fourth. He nearly forgot that they weren't alone, and that they were at a high school party, with at least a hundred other individuals dancing beside them. Hannah sunk deeper into his chest, then felt her tug at his black hair. He removed his chin and looked down at her, finding her staring right back with shy eyes.

"I--" Cas began, but her lips had pressed into his own, kissing him endlessly. Though, he didn't kiss back. What had happened? She slowly pulled away, licking her lips. But when she noted the shock in his blue eyes, her smile turned into a frown. He never thought this would happen... that she would want him in this sort of way. They had been best friends for nearly five years--since middle school--and only thought of them as close friends. But had they been more than that? Had there been something between them? No. Only within her, because he slowly pushed her away, dragging a hand through his silk, black hair.

"I'm sorry..." Hannah said, but her voice trailed off, silver lining her eyes. Her breath began ragged gasps and she ran away, bumping past a couple and nearly knocking them off their feet. What had happened? He dragged a hand down his face, feeling ashamed. But why should he? He had no feelings for her, besides wanting her as a friend. But... were they ever going to be as close again? He bit his lip, turning it ivory. He had to get out of here.

He slowly slipped past people, his heart racing. He couldn't stop thinking about that hurt and so broken look on her face. He walked by a couch, nearly tripping over a fallen vase. He dodged many people making out and drunken teens. What had happened? The world thundered, leaving nothing but a faded darkness. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. What had happened?

All of a sudden, he slammed into a body and nearly fell over, but a hand grabbed him, lifting him to his feet. His vision cleared and he met emerald green eyes, leaving him dazed. He stared at the boy for a long moment, taking in his features: short, cropped brown hair, green eyes, a perfectly cut chin and his shirt framing his muscles clearly. He blinked and shook his head, pressing two fingers in the bridge of his nose.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you--"

The boy interrupted, "it's alright." Then the boy with beautiful, beautiful eyes turned away, talking to his companion. He rubbed the back of his neck and walked away, quicker than he had before. He was so very confused. But, for some reason, he couldn't get those eyes out of his mind. It was as if he had stared at the most perfect and magnificent painting in his life... He rubbed his eyes, trying to get the picture out. Why was he thinking this way?

He found himself walking towards the door, an arm's length away, before a hand blocked his path. He bumped into someone and stepped back, letting out an exasperated breath. "We have to stop bumping into each other like this." The boy from before laughed, giving him a wolfish grin.

Cas furrowed his brows, crossing his arms. "I was about to leave, but turns out you blocked me from my path."

The boy snorted, still not letting him free. "Do you not like that I did so?" He questioned, the boy leaning closer with a grin. Castiel took a step back, not unfolding his arms. Who did this boy think he was? He did not like what was happening.

"Frankly, I did not. Now if I have my leave--"

"And why would you want to leave? The party just started!" The boy exclaimed, his green eyes glinting. Cas let out a sigh, rubbing his temples.

"This party started four hours ago. It's way past midnight, and I would like to leave." He said, shoving his watch into the boy's face. It perfectly read 2:23, and he did not have time for this nonsense. He needed to study for exams!

"Did it now? Feels like this party only just started," the boy said, examining the scene around them. His eyes fixed on Cas once again and smiled. "What's you name?"

"And why would you want to know my name?" He questioned, narrowing his blue eyes at the boy.

"Because I'm very interested in you. And because we're talking, wouldn't it be nice to address you with your name?"

Cas let out a long, long sigh. "I'm Castiel. Now may I please leave?" He tapped his foot impatiently, his head pounding. He had nearly forgotten about what had happened not long before... he didn't want to think about it. It would all be lost by the morning, right?

"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester," Dean told him, his grin wolfish. "I like the sound to Castiel. And you may take your leave." He finally said, removing his hand from the wall. Castiel let out a relieved sigh and pushed past him, not bothering with a goodbye. What was the point, anyways? "Goodbye to you, too." He heard him murmur, but then it faded with the distant music.

He walked silently down the frigid streets. He nuzzled close to his overcoat, shivering because of the cold air. It was only autumn, but it felt like the harsh winter. His breath came out like clouds, and the wind blew past, causing a shiver down his spine. He thought about Dean. About how his green eyes glinted and how they were just so perfect... Why was he thinking about him, anyways? He hardly knew the guy! But at least it shut out the kiss, which he failed to return to Hannah. They would forget about it in the morning, he insisted in his mind, but he still knew that didn't just happen so easily.

His feet tapped against the sidewalk, echoing down the cold streets of Louisiana. He clutched his jacket, savouring the little warmth. It was only a couple more blocks towards home, but it felt like forever. He sighed, scratching at his hair with impatience. He just wanted to be home and--

The sound of an engine took his thoughts away. He whirled around, finding a '67 Chevy Impala in mint condition. He never saw those around! He was very fond of old cars--the way their engines roared, and the style was amazing. The engine was cut off, and he heard the whine of the door swinging open. He narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding as the figure walked towards him.

He stepped back and began to walk the opposite direction, bleeding with the shadows. Though, his trench obviously gave him away, because a hand grabbed his shoulder. He let out a panicked yelp as he was spun around. A laugh covered his panic, and his eyes met with the familiar, green eyes of Dean Winchester.

"What the hell!" He exclaimed, shoving Dean. "Why the hell are you following me?" 

"I didn't mean to frighten you, Cas," Dean began, sounding mockingly apologetic. "And I just thought it'd be fun--"

"Fun?" He laughed, not believing what he was hearing. "You followed me for fun?" He shook his head, pressing his back against the alley wall. "You do realize how creepy and messed up that sounds, right?"

Dean let out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. Why was he following him? And why was it worth his time? "I don't know..." His voice trailed off, a blush spreading across his cheeks. Cas shook his head.

"Well that's pretty, damn stupid if you don't know. Now would you please leave me alone?" He begged and began to walk away. A hand grabbed his shoulder once again, and he nearly punched Dean in the face. He lifted his hand away, showing his acquiesce. "What is your problem?"

"I-I'm sorry," he began, biting his lip. "It's just..." His voice trailed off, his face turning crimson.

"It's just what, exactly? That you stalk people and don't leave them alone?" He asked, pleased to see Dean's face look as if he were on fire. 

He struggled for words, then let out a defeated sigh. "I'm not a stalker... I'll just leave." He whispered, then started to walk away. Cas nearly felt hurt about his actions, but he only rolled his eyes and began to walk home again.

During the rest of his walk, he made sure Dean hadn't followed him, again. He thought it was strange for Dean to do so... But maybe there was more to it? He shook his head to himself, let out a shaky breath, then walked up the front steps of his home. He lived with his two brothers, Gabriel and Michael. His parents died when he was an infant, so he didn't really miss them. 

He placed the key in the lock and opened the door, the warmth of the house relieving his bones. He smiled and shut the door, shrugging off his trench, and then tiptoed up to his room, ever-so-often hearing the creak of the floor boards. He admired his home. With all the paintings and few book shelves. Even though they had old furniture from around the 90's, he didn't mind it. He flicked the light on to his small room, shutting the door behind him. He pealed his clothes off, slipping into bed with only his boxers. 

He should have studied that night, but he was so damn tired, he needed his beauty sleep. And he had forgotten Hannah's shy kiss, only to remember Dean's ever-so-green eyes. Those green eyes from out of this world... 

He woke up to his door bursting open, and his brother, Gabriel, storming it. "Where were you last night?" He demanded.

Cas groaned, shoving his head under a pillow. But his blankets were ripped from his body, leaving him exposed to the not-so-warm air. "Leave me alone..." He moaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"It's fucking 10:00, and you're telling me to leave you alone? You're an hour late for school, damnit!" Gabe snapped, storming out of the room with his usual temper leaving. Cas' eyes widened and he jumped from bed, throwing on a t-shirt and jeans, and then darted downstairs, grabbing his backpack.

"Jesus Christ, Gabe! Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" He snapped at his older brother, only to receive a snort.

"Why the hell would I wake you up? That's your job! Now get the fuck to school before you miss your exam!" Gabriel shoved him out of the house, throwing the Chevy Camaro's keys at him. He widened his eyes, knowing he never got to drive the car. But he didn't protest, and jumped into the vehicle and began to drive towards school. He had never been late for school before. It felt so... Strange.

He parked in the school's parking lot and hopped out of the vehicle, running towards the building. His breath was caught, low of stamina as he reached the front doors and bursted in. The halls were empty, obviously due to the fact that school had started. He hurried down the halls, heading towards his classroom, and walked in on a lecture. He gulped and sat in his desk, facing his English teacher. Mr. Franklin laid his cold eyes on him, shaking his head disapprovingly. Like you were never late for class, he thought bitterly.

"Steven, please recap for Mr. Novak." The teacher told the boy sitting beside him. Castiel turned to his side, finding the pimple covered face of Steven--the strange red-head that always gave him the creeps. He gulped, and Steven began to feed him up on the details, leaving out how much the teacher was a douche. It was mostly about poems, the English history and shit. Stuff that he needed to know, but stuff that didn't exactly matter. He sighed and jotted down notes on a lined piece of paper.

After excruciating hours of class, they finally let them free for lunch. He decided to sit outside, hoping he would find Hannah and apologize. But when he stepped outside, he instantly laid his eyes on Dean Winchester. He couldn't help but notice that he was staring right back, eying him like prey. He widened his eyes and sat on a bench, his appetite dropping. Charlie and Kevin--two of his best friends--sat down with him, eying him with concern.

"You alright there, Cas?" Charlie asked, her red hair glinting in the sun. She was beautiful in her own way, even though she was nerdy. Well, they all were. They were mostly into physics and the human anatomy, and Cas himself was saving up money for University, so he could become a doctor. He didn't exactly know why, but he just knew he wanted to help people as much as he could.

When Cas realized he was dazing, he blinked his eyes. "Sorry," Cas began. "It was a long night." He told them, rubbing his blue eyes from sleep. Those green eyes haunted him whenever he shut his eyes, and he felt like punching something because of it.

"Parties do that. I told you that you shouldn't have gone!" Kevin said triumphantly. Yeah... Kevin bet that it would be the worst night of his life, and that Hannah was gonna try something. It was strange how Kevin always ended up right.

"Well don't nag me about it," he snapped, glaring at his friend. Kevin rolled his eyes and Charlie bit her lip. He wanted to shoot someone because those damn eyes wouldn't leave him alone. Why were Dean Winchester's eyes haunting him?

"That bad, huh?" Charlie asked, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand, looking down at Castiel.

He nodded and groaned a bit. "Do you know if Hannah is here today?" He asked, also telling them what had happened vaguely. Charlie thought for a moment, then shook her head. His stomach dropped, knowing he screwed everything up between them. But it wasn't his fault, was it? She had made the move and Cas just didn't feel like it was... Right.

Kevin made a face and looked at Charlie for a moment. "Just give her time," Kevin told him, patting his back. Cas nodded, his breath clouding. He was a jerk for pushing her away... But he felt absolutely nothing when she kissed him. It was as if it were just a normal hand shake, and it hadn't meant anything.

After a couple hours, school was finally over and the bell rung. He had finished his exam and handed it in. He was afraid for his mark, but didn't he always ace his tests? He walked down the halls of the school, people shoving past him. He felt small in this world. As if he were just an ant, and there were bigger creatures awaiting to stomp on him. Waiting for the right moment to punch and hurt... He sighed, putting his hands in his pockets and evacuated the building, heading towards the Camaro. 

Before he reached the car, he noticed someone leaning against it, staring like a wolf as he neared. Without even seeing his face, he knew it had to be Dean. For some reason, his spirits lifted. He didn't have the slightest clue to why.

"What do you want?" Cas demanded, keeping a safe distance away. Dean eyed him up and down, making Cas' cheeks turn a faint, red hue.

"I wanted to see you off," Dean told him, pushing away from the car and stepping towards him.

"You do realize I still think you as a stalker?" Cas said, crossing his arms and looking up at him. His eyes were breathtaking...

"Do you, now?" Dean laughed, his grin never wavering. 

Cas rolled his eyes, clutching the keys in his hand. "Is there something that you want?" He questioned, taking a step back.

Dean took a step forward. A muscle feathered in his jaw, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Yes, there is." He said vaguely.

"And would you tell me what that is so you leave me be?" He tapped his foot on the ground, ignoring the people passing by. Dean stared at him for a long moment, his grin widening.

"I don't think that'd help with my case, here, Cas." He said and walked away, a slight swagger in his steps. He admired that, for some reason, and watched him walk off. Something dropped in his stomach, but he ignored it and got into the Camaro. 

When he got home, Gabriel instantly snatched the keys from him. Cas frowned, but understood that it was just a one-time-thing. He plopped himself on the couch, the springs biting into his ass. He was used to it now, but his mattress was ten times more comfortable. He flipped on the television, the screen flashing advertisements before it finally turned on Doctor Who. He leaned into the couch, kicking off his shoes and opened up his note book. He began to read away, studying every inch and note on those damned pages. He sat there for hours, fed up with all the information, and hadn't even realized Gabe was leaning against the couch, watching whatever was on the TV.

After he memorized everything on the page, he let out a yawn and decided on a walk. He felt so restless, he didn't want to just sit there all day, doing nothing but study and listen to the television. The air bit at his skin, the day unforgivably cold. He nuzzled into his trench, taking every bit of warmth it gave.

Vehicles sped past, sending a breeze that bit his neck, causing an unforgiving shiver down his spine. His teeth started to chatter, and he decided it was best to return home. But as he looked at a street sign, he hadn't realized he had walked two hours away. He let out an exasperated sigh, and began to walk the opposite way of the street.

He continued to walk, the cold nearly freezing him to death, as he spotted a diner. He searched his pocket, finding a ten dollar bill and smiled. He walked towards it, entering the delicious warmth. The hostess with a high ponytail and overdone makeup showed him to his booth. He sat down, leaning into the comfortable chair. It was comfiest than his own couch... He bit his lip, knowing he couldn't just fall asleep here.

He ordered coffee and a slice of pie and dove in instantly, savouring the delicious warmth as the cherry flavour that melted on his tongue. He couldn't help but groan in satisfaction. He never really got to eat this delicious food at home. They didn't have enough money to go buy chips and all of that shit. 

He heard the bell ring of a customer walk in, and when he turned around, his heart dropped as it was Dean Winchester. He was following him again! What the hell was his problem? As Dean strolled in, he didn't spare him a glance as he walked past, sitting himself with two others. He instantly recognized Lisa and a guy named Crowley. He let out a sigh of relief, but couldn't help but feel disappointed that he didn't sit down in front of him, casting those flirtatious grins of his.

He began to sip at his coffee, taking it black. The taste was bitter compared to the pie he had eaten, but it still satisfied him. He hummed a song as he looked out the window, fighting to not glance at Dean. Leaves flew passed the window, young men and woman strolled down the streets, and occasional cars passed by, roaring down the horrible, cold streets. He was thankful that he was inside the diner, but he knew he had to leave at one point.

After he finished his bitter coffee, he placed the bill under the mug and left the diner, ready to face the horrible, horrible cold. The bell sung behind him, hearing rushing steps as he walked down the patio and passed a couple tables with umbrellas spurting out. A hand grabbed his shoulder, but he didn't flinch. He already knew it was Dean.

He turned around and looked up at his perfect, cropped face. "Yes?" Cas asked, waiting for a response.

"I'm starting to think you're the one following me," Dean said with a wink, sending a shiver down his spine. He continued to tell himself that it was a common reaction to being flirted with.... But he didn't know if that were the full truth.

Cas let out a snort, shaking his head softly. "I think you got it all wrong, pal. I was just enjoying a dessert when you strolled in," he said with a shrug. "Pretty sure you're the one that continues to follow me." Why was it so easy to joke about this?

Dean grinned, satisfied. "You got me! But I can't help it. The moment I laid eyes on you, you were a whole mystery. I just had to investigate and fill in the clues."

"Metaphorical?" He said, not entirely a question. "And why am I such a mystery to you?"

"You're hiding something. There's something.... Different about you." Dean told him, his eyes examining his body, something glinting in his gaze. Cas couldn't help but feel the heat in his cheeks. Damn. Dean really had an effect on him, even when he didn't know shit about this guy.

"Everyone's different in their own kind of way." Cas retorted, shrugging carelessly. Though, Dean still ran his eyes up and down his torso; as if he could see something that he couldn't. Why was this kid so weird?

Dean laughed a bit, rubbing his neck, his cheeks reddening. Dean Winchester, blushing? "Yes... But I mean you're really different. There's something I cannot place."

Castiel frowned, stepping away. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" It came out like venom. He didn't exactly like that he was being called, basically, out of the box. Yes, everyone is different in their own way, but if he was special... But honestly, he didn't know why he got so angry all of a sudden. 

"I didn't mean to offend!" Dean said hurriedly, his hand shoving into his pockets. "It's just... Ye' know... I'm really bad with words."

"I can see that," Cas said bluntly, Dean's face flushing.

"Ugh," Dean laughed nervously, "I should get going." Then Dean began to walk away, his slight swagger turning into a sag. Cas bit his lip, feeling guilty. He shouldn't have reacted that way; he was just... sensitive he supposed.

"I guess it's not that bad being called different," he called to Dean. He turned around, a smile forming across his lips. 

"There's a party on Saturday, if you'd like to go," Dean offered, flashing a nervous smile. Cas knew what he meant by it, but he didn't want to upset this guy. He seemed like a nice one, he supposed.

"Thanks for telling me. I may pop in for a bit," he said, shrugging a little, forcing himself to smile. Dean's eyes brightened a bit, making Cas' heart skip a beat. He was so cute when he smiled. But why was he paying so much attention to it? Strange.

"See you then," Dean replied. And with that, he headed back home, grinning the whole way back.


	2. Two; Saviour and Lover

"After they twisted and twirled,

He knew that his heart was stolen,

And that there was no way of it returning."

 

 

After another night of studying, Saturday was nearing and he decided not to mention it to his brothers. They'd just talk him out of it, and tell him it's a bad idea. He let out a shallow laugh as his brother, Michael, went on about religion. Michael and Gabriel were religious, just like his father. They told him that it was sin to not believe in the lord, but what did they know? All they read was a book full of stories and took them seriously. They may be bland thoughts, but he didn't exactly believe in the stories. Yes, there were definitely some things that made sense, like Revelations... But that was about it.

"Moses led them through an ocean through the sea of blood! How can you not believe this?" Michael went on.

Castiel shook his head, reading his notes. They had to leave him alone about this religious talk some day. He wouldn't judge their decisions and beliefs, but he thought they were insane to believe a story. It was like reading a normal book and saying that Daleks actually existed.

"Don't have any say in this, Cas?" Michael asked, his eyes boring onto his paper. Cas let out a long sigh, scribbling words onto the lined paper.

"Can you just let me study?" He asked, tapping the mechanical pencil on the sheet of paper. He was jotting down notes that he has written before, but he didn't seem to remember them...

"Alright," Michael grumbled, shoving off of the couch and leaving the room. He swore that religion was the only thing that came from Michael's mouth. He bit his lip and continued to jot down memorized notes. It was hard to remember, because he knew that he was to attend the party on Saturday. He heard of where it was located at school: Lisa's house. He supposed she wasn't that bad, but he didn't particularly like her group of friends. Crowley, especially. Though they seemed to ignore him, and he felt relieved about it.

After another hour of studying, he realized it was already midnight. He let out a yawn, scratching his raven, black hair and moved to his room. His brothers were probably playing pool in the garage, where he wasn't exactly allowed to go. He wasn't thrilled that the didn't spend much time with him, but at least they didn't bother him often. He would probably go insane if they continued to babble on and on about their crap. It's not like he didn't care about their feelings... It was just that it was all about them, and they didn't didn't give a rat's ass about him. He just stopped trying to open up to them, because they would just push him away. He stopped crying about it a long time ago.

He plopped into his bed, sinking into the warm mattress. He wrapped the blankets around him, the warmth deliciously sinking into his skin. He fell asleep after a few moments, the green eyes of Dean haunting him all night long.

When he woke up that morning, he hadn't realized it was already Saturday. He checked his Samsung as the alarm vibrated through his room, making him groan with annoyance. He had slept in, but it didn't matter that much. He hoisted himself from his bed and walked into the kitchen, finding Gabriel sipping at his coffee. His short brown hair was finely cut, but he desperately needed a shave. His caramel eyes shone in the lighting as he read the newspaper. Cas poured poured himself a cup of coffee, taking it black, and sat beside his brother. He ran a hand through his messy, black hair, knowing he was going to need a haircut soon.

Gabe looked up from his newspaper and said, "morning, little brother." He returned to his newspaper, taking a big gulp of his coffee.

"Morning," he murmured, leaning into the chair. He looked around the house, seeing the usual, comfortable home. The wallpaper was chipping and was needing a change, but there wasn't enough money to replace them. The book shelves were chipped, but still looked fine. The couch had a couple rips, but was perfectly usable. The table was dull and worn, and the counter tops were a cheap marble. They had few cutlery and plates and bowls, but enough to suit the three of them. He sighed and took another sip from his coffee, blowing it slightly before daring the liquid down his throat.

"Can you go to the store and grab some groceries?" Gabriel asked him, not sparing him a glance. Cas bit his lip, wanting to say no, be he obliged. He stood up without another word and walked outside, taking his trench with him.

The air wasn't as cold today, but it was still unforgiving. He looked at the sky, noting the blue and beautiful sky that was full of colour and clouds. He wanted to fly up, up, up and never look back. He wanted to soar and explore the skies... Do the impossible. But that was something completely impossible. No one could just fly.

He reached the Food Basics down the street and entered. He realized he hadn't asked what to buy, but he suspected the usual: coffee, and whatever the hell we can eat. He went down the aisles with a cart, the wheels whining. He grabbed a tub of ground coffee beans, a few vegetables, Kraft Dinner, and chicken legs. He paid for everything out of his own pocket and left the store, letting out a sad sigh.

He dropped the food off at home, then left right away, not wanting to speak to his brothers. They could be assholes very often, and he didn't want to be scolded about getting the wrong coffee.

He rounded a corner and found a Chevy Impala, and he quickly turned around, knowing who the car belonged to. He thought he heard someone call his name, but it must have been the wind. He checked his watch, finding that it was 2:00 p.m. Couldn't time just go by faster? He thought to himself, boredom looking around the familiar street.

He turned right down main, seeing a couple of bikers leaning against their motorcycles. He didn't dare glance at them for too long, but he knew they noticed. One with a David Bowe hairstyle spat out a toothpick, making his way towards Cas. He gulped, knowing what was to come. The others with long hair in various colours just watched, snickering lightly.

"Why the fuck were you watching us?" The biker spat, spitting on his face. He didn't dare to clean it.

"I-I couldn't help but notice your n-nice bike, sir," Cas lied, his legs shaking as the man stepped closer.

"Bullshit." The man snarled, grabbing the collar of his shirt. Cas breathed in a shaky breath, his heart pounding, and his fists clenching and un clenching. He was not expecting any of this. Why must it happen now? Why today!

"No, really! I u-usually don't see antique bikes around, a-and I'm v-very fond of them," the lie would have slipped out nice and easy if he weren't scared out of his shit. The man narrowed his eyes, his black eyes boring into his own.

"Keep your fu--"

"Is there a problem here?" A familiar voice asked behind them, interrupting the revolting biker. The man threw Cas aside, then began to walk towards the familiar boy. Dean. Of course he was here. But, for some reason, he was very thankful that he had shown up.

"Who the fuck are you?" The biker snarled, his fists clenching. They were enormous! They could probably crush a skull in a matter of moments. Castiel couldn't help but shake even more.

"That's none of your damn business, my friend," Dean replied simply, "but it seems that my friend here was speaking to you piece of shit."

"Mind your mouth!" One of the bikers had snuck up to them, making Cas jump. He watched with wide eyes at the scene, his throat becoming raw.

"You little fucker have gotten yourself in serious shit," then man lifted his fist up and went to hit him square in the jaw, but Dean stealthily dodged it, tripping the man without even flinching!

"I'm so scared," Dean taunted, grinning wolfishly. Cas couldn't help but laugh a little, but then he was shoved to the ground. He landed on the cold, cement floor, his hand scraping against a rock. He flinched away from it, clutching his bleeding hand. He hissed and turned around, only to see the biker that shoved him be thrown to the side, slamming into the three bikes.

"You little shit!" The leader snarled, but was met easily with a slam in the jaw, and then he fell to the ground, unconscious. It was just so easy for him... There was more to this guy than he knew. But what?

A hand was held out for him, and he took it willingly. He was hoisted up, a whisker's length away from their lips brushing... But he quickly stepped away, brushing his pants. He hissed at the wound in his palm, realizing he had gotten blood on his trench.

"Thanks..." He said to Dean, smiling a bit.

Dean rolled his eyes, then took his hand. Cas flinched, but then eased. "You need to be patched up." He stated.

"No shit," he laughed. Dean grinned, his cheeks heating. "And really; thank you for saving my ass back there."

"It was nothing," Dean shrugged, then began to lead him towards his Impala. He was about to protest and say he couldn't, but it would be nice to get out of the cold.

"It was definitely something back there," Cas told him, "how the hell did you do that?"

"I'm batman," he said jokingly, and Cas couldn't help the heating in his cheeks. He didn't expect that, but he shrugged it off. He got into the passenger seat as Dean got into the driver's. The inside was absolutely perfect! Not a scratch, despite the fact that there was right on the lower compartment. He gaped at the mint condition of the vehicle, unsure of how he kept it this way.

"She's a beauty, huh?" Dean breathed, petting the dashboard. He started the engine, and it purred a beautiful sound. He looked out the window, smiling a bit.

"Yeah," he replied, almost a whisper. He clutched his hand, and realized that they weren't heading towards his house. It's not like Dean knew where he lived, right? Without another word, the impala stopped before an old apartment. He looked at it for a moment, then got out of the vehicle. He noted the scene: red bricks with vines climbing up the walls, some boarded windows, but some were new. This wasn't decent part of the city, but it was still sort of nice, he supposed.

"Come on in," Dean said as he walked past him, his shoulder brushing his own. That was a move that he obviously did on purpose. What a flirt. He followed after him, entering the old building. They walked up the old, wooden stairs to the very top, seeing only about four doors that entered individual apartments.

Dean unlocked the door on the right at the very end, the door whining as he swung it open. "After you," Dean offered, holding the door for him. Cas smiled and entered, dazing at the apartment. The furniture was new, the painting was un chipped, and the floorboards didn't creak. He definitely kept his apartment clean. He sniffed the air. What was that? Mint?

"It's a very nice home of yours, Dean." He complimented, turning around to face him. Dean smiled in response, all of a sudden shy. Cas couldn't help but think of why he'd be so after all of this.

"Shall we get that fixed up for you?" He asked, walking a door that must lead to the bathroom.

"Sure," Cas replied, following after him. The bathroom was quite small, definitely a one fitter. Dean sat on the edge of the bathtub, taking a med-kit from the cabinet. Dean reached for his hand, and he slowly gave it to him.

"This may hurt like shit," Dean told him as he held a liquor bottle out. He was only in grade twelve and he had liquor? How on earth was he allowed to get some? His thoughts were blocked out as searing pain itched his hand, and he had to bite his lip. It did hurt like shit, but he wouldn't cry about it.

As he finished pouring the alcohol onto his palm, he wrapped gauze around his palm. He flinched at the touch as Dean brushed his hand on his wrist, clearly a playful gesture. Once he had finished, he stood up, standing very close. A bit too close.

"We should get going. Wouldn't want to miss the party, right?" He whispered into his ear, his breath hot on his neck, causing a shiver down his spine. Cas nodded slowly and stepped back, removing himself from the bathroom.

Dean walked past him, his green eyes glinting, and opened the front door. "After you," he insisted. Cas rolled his eyes and left the apartment, heading down the stairs without waiting for him. He could call Dean a friend--a very strange one, indeed.

As they got into the impala, Cas caught Dean staring at him, his eyes softening. He usually had an intense look on his face... But now, it has changed. He couldn't depict what it was all about, so he just smiled at Dean, then looked out the window.

They soon reached the party, which was already swarming with guests. Football players, cheerleaders and many others walked into the house. He could already see the people dancing inside the mansion. The lights were flickering from green, to purple, to blue. It was quite beautiful, but it wasn't natural. The colours were too neon, which is probably why it made people so into the dancing. To pick up the mood.

Dean parked a block away as they walked towards the house together. Not many words passed between them. It was mostly just utter silence, leaving Cas to hum his favourite songs. They were mostly classics by Kansas and Asia, and he noticed Dean humming along, but it was hard to make out what song he had sung. When Dean caught him staring, he cast him a wink, making Cas' stomach flutter.

They finally reached the mansion and entered it without knocking. It was a party, after all. He felt bad he hadn't invited Charlie and Kevin, but they weren't much of partiers--just like himself. But it didn't hurt to attend one or two, right?

The bodies danced closely, all hopping to the same beat. Some just watched, but he could tell over half of the guests were dancing their asses off. Cas nearly snorted, until he noticed Hannah. Her eyes were on them, eying Cas like a hawk. His face flushed, knowing he should confront her... But he couldn't. Dean caught his gaze and followed it, frowning at the sight. After a moment, Cas walked away, his heart sinking. She had ruined things between them. If he had only kissed her back... But wouldn't that have made things worse?

He went straight for the alcohol, chugging down a plastic cup. The liquor burned down his throat, but it was somewhat satisfying. Dean watched him with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe.

"Who was that?" He asked. Behind that smirk, he found jealousy. What was he to him, anyways? He wasn't his boyfriend or anything. That hadn't even shared a freaking kiss!

"Someone I thought was my friend," he replied, chugging down another cup. He let out a satisfied sigh and walked to the other room, all of a sudden in the buzz to move. Dean followed after him, eying him as Cas began to dance, far away from the view of Hannah. Dean found himself dancing as well, his moves syncing with Cas'. It was a thrill and a delight that they both danced together carelessly. They moved like waves of the same current, always in sync and never faltering. It was beautiful.

After what could have possibly been and hour, they continued to dance to the fast moving songs. The Weeknd, the Beatles and other bands he couldn't place bursted through the speakers, vibrating through his soul. He found himself dancing close to Dean, but he didn't dare to run away. His legs refused to move.

Dean had watched him the whole time, his emerald green eyes glinting with amusement. Castiel only grinned, his moves never faltering. This sudden energy was overwhelming, but it was amazing. He had never felt so alive!

As the music slowed, the wave of bodies rocked slowly like boats. Cas slowed down, and leaned against a hutch. Dean looked at him with playful eyes, but then a hand took his shoulder, revealing Lisa. They exchanged words and Dean was off dancing with her, rocking her back and fourth. Something inside him burned with rage. With jealousy. But he wasn't his. They were just friends and nothing between them. Maybe this is what Hannah felt... Just at that, he found her walking towards him, her head lowered.

"Cas..." She began, but he only watched her. He felt bad, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize. What was there to say sorry about, anyways? That he didn't kiss her back?

"What is it?" It came out harsher than he intended, but why should he care? Silver lined her eyes, and she shook her head slowly.

"I'm sorry. Could we... Could we start over?" With what? The kiss? That sounded like a damn fool's idea.

Cas shook his head sadly, then walked away without a goodbye. He shoved past the bodies, feeling as if this were too familiar. As if he was replaying the party a couple nights before. But he didn't run into Dean. He walked straight into the kitchen and downed a couple more drinks, the buzz hitting him in the gut.

Once the slow dance picked up, Cas stumbled To the dance floor, finding Dean in the corner. He sat there alone, watching him with narrowed eyes. Cas tugged on his arm, pulling him towards the dancing. "Let's dance," he insisted. Dean eyed him for a couple more moments, then decided to dance once again. Cas grinned and danced to the fast beat of a song he couldn't depict.

The lights flashed like stars, making him grin widely. He spun around, finding himself falling into Dean. He let out a snort and pushed away. "And you catch me once again."

"How many drinks did you have?" Dean asked him, his voice amused but concerned.

"Maybe four too many." Cas replied, thinking. "Maybe more." He snorted again and trailed a finger up Dean's chest. Dean shook his head, grinning.

"I should probably get you home," he told Cas. He gave him a pout and shook his head, drowning into the flow of sweaty bodies. He bumped into many others, but none of them minded. He saw Dean follow after him, his grin wolfish.

He found a door that lead outside to a wondrous backyard. With fountains and a pool, and no one was out there but a drunken teen that had passed out. Cas hummed and stumbled outside, finding himself sit beside the pool. He crossed his legs and hummed, his mind buzzing.

Dean sat beside him, looking at Cas from the side. Cas grinned and rested his head on his shoulder, his mind scrambling, his heart pounding... Dean looked down at him and Cas looked back up through his lashes.

"You have no idea how tempted I am to kiss you..." Dean murmured, his breath hot on his face. Cas stared at him with a playful grin.

"Then do it," he whispered. Dean stared down at him for a long moment, his hands playing with the collar of his shirt. Cas let uneven breaths as Dean stroked a hand down his arm, playing with the buttons of his trench. After what felt like forever, his lips crashed onto his own, tugging his tie to make him closer. Electricity shot down his spine as Dean kissed him, his mind swirling with many, many thoughts. He found himself kissing him back, their lips moving in perfect sync.

After a while, Dean pulled away and watched him, a satisfied growl escaping his throat. "How was it?" Dean asked, his lips hovering over his own. Their eyes locked, something inside him longing for him.

"Amazing," he breathed, his breath caught as Dean cupped his cheek and threw himself over top of him, his lips pressing onto his own. He groaned lightly as his lips moved to his neck, his legs feeling limp and useless. Dean unbuttoned the top of his shirt, but Cas swatted his hands away. "Not here!" He exclaimed. They were still outside in Lisa's backyard.

"Right," he said into his lips. "And I wouldn't want to take advantage." His lips were delicate and slow, but he yearned for more. When Cas didn't reply, his words caught beneath his pleasure, Dean pulled away with a wild grin. "Shall we get out of here?" His lips explored his own, his body pressed into Cas'. He arched his back as Cas ran a finger down his spine, and electrifying sensation shaking his limbs.

His eyes fluttered open, not realizing when he had closed them. He nodded slowly, then took Dean's hand as he offered it, his eyes exploring up and down. They escaped the mansion through the back, not sparing their reason of leaving.

Dean drove him to his place, his eyes widening. "Not tonight, babe," Dean said. "You're drunk, and I'd feel bad for taking advantage." Cas furrowed his brows and stared at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but his stomach dropped and he felt bile rise. He jumped out of the car, vomiting all over the sidewalk. He wiped his mouth, his stomach lurching, but held the rest of his vomit. He groaned and rubbed his stomach.

"Thanks for the ride," he said before walking up the front steps of his house, stumbling inside and crashing into bed. How would he explain this to his brothers, this time?

He woke up in the morning, his eyes burning from the light. He groaned and pushed his head into the pillow, his head pounding with a mind grain. After a couple minutes of moaning into the pillow, realization hit him from last night. His cheeks turned scarlet, and his fingers moved to his lips. He could still smell the leather and mint on him... He could still taste Dean's lips... He shivered.

He jumped out of bed, slowly walking into the kitchen and slumping over the table. Michael and Gabriel eyes him with curiosity. "Late night, huh?" Michael said, purposely slamming a cupboard. Cas let out a groan as his head pounded with pain.

"What did we tell you about parties, Cas?" Gabriel snapped, his eyes fiercer than usual.

"I'm a fucking adult, man! Can't I do whatever the hell I want?" Oh, he was an idiot for what he did. His brothers would kill him if they knew what he did... But why should they care? It was a free country!

"You have school, and you aren't an adult until you act like one." Michael hissed, sitting beside Cas at the table. "Going to parties won't help at all for University."

"I know that, okay? Just leave me alone." He grabbed a piece of bread and left the house, storming down the streets before they could respond. He had to squint as the light burned straight through him. It was nearly unbearable! But he had to get out of that house. He just had to get away!

He found himself walking towards the harbour, looking at the crashing waves of the sea. It was his most favourite part of Louisiana. With the serene environment and the utter silence, besides the sound of water against sand and rock. He stood there, not caring that the wind bit at his skin. His eyes threatened tears, but he wiped them away, inhaling the salty air.

He sat there for hours, watching nothing, his mind blank. He couldn't handle his life no longer. This painful, judgmental life that his brothers always forced into his mind. That he was useless, and that he was... Nothing. Maybe they were right. Maybe they were right about every damn thing. Maybe he should just end it.

He didn't realize he had sat down, with the sand sticking to his overcoat. He watched the waves for a moment longer, then stood up, walking towards it. Maybe he should just end it... He continued to walk towards it, the waves dancing at his ankles. Maybe he should... He walked knee deep, his legs feeling numb at the cold. His body shook at the freezing temperature. It was getting harder and harder to walk in this as the waves fought against him. Then he realized what was happening. His eyes opened wide, knowing how stupid he was, and began to run back, fighting against the crashing of the waves. He wasn't going to end it--not yet. He still had a life to live for.

He let out a sob as he finally reached shore, and he collapsed in front of the shoreline, his face sinking into the sand. His body shook, unable to stop his shivering. He could hear footsteps near, but he didn't look up. He just continued to cry and be weak...

A hand gently touched his shoulder, offering him a squeeze. His eyes met with the familiar emerald green, knowing instantly that it was Dean. Why did he always follow him? Why did he care?

"C'mon, you're gonna freeze to death." He said while forcing Cas up to his feet. He groaned, leaning against Dean for support. His limbs were frozen, and he couldn't feel his toes.

"Why don't you just let me?" He murmured, his gaze travelling elsewhere. To anywhere but life.

Dean shook his head, wrapping an arm around him. "Because I won't be able to bear seeing you die." He replied simply, making his heart sink.

He didn't realize how much he needed to hear those few words.


	3. Three; Studying and Pie

"The ocean crashed along the shore,

Leaving me to adore,

The most beautiful sight, wanting more."

 

 

He didn't know why, but he felt safe in his arms. Dean had brought them to the diner where they had run into each other. Well, when he says 'run into each other', that usually meant he purposefully did so. He continued to shiver as they sat in the diner, and he could have sworn he had gotten hypothermia. He constantly rubbed his arms, savouring the warmth the diner provided, but it didn't seem like enough.

Dean eyed him softly, his eyes glinting with that... thing. He couldn't explain what he saw. His shaking began to slow down, but his clothes were still damp and he just stared at Dean. He was too cold to say a damn word. And if he spoke... he was afraid to say the wrong thing. Dean leaned into the booth, slinging a hand over the back of the booth and watching him. What did he see in him that he couldn't? That no one else could?

"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling for pie," Dean told him. Cas' eyes lit up, spreading a smile across his lips. The waitress finally addressed them and took their orders, then disappeared to the back.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Cas. "I want to know everything," he said, and Cas knew exactly what he meant. He wanted to know his life. But there was nothing special about it, was there? Just a normal, sad life that everyone endured.

"There's not much to it," Cas began, "but I live with my brothers, and I am dreaming of becoming a doctor."

Dean shook his head slowly, a smile tugging at his lips. "There's so much more to it, though. Why do you live with your brothers? Why do you want to become a doctor?"

Cas contemplated for a moment, unsure of his answers. "My parents died when I was an infant; that's why I live with Michael and Gabriel," he began, pausing for a moment, "I want to become a doctor because... Because it reminds me that one day, life could get better for many individuals--heck, even families--if I saved them in the slightest way. I believe that everyone deserves a second chance, and I can willingly give them that..."

Dean nodded slowly, taking in his answers. "How did they die?" He asked, unsure if it were a safe line to cross.

Cas inhaled a long breath, then exhaled after a couple moments. "A car crash. I don't remember anything, because I was so young... But sometimes I swear I can see them. As if I were there and lived that moment..." His voice trailed off, his gaze drifting down, studying the wooden table. They were so interesting...

"I'm sorry..." Dean began, his voice trailing off. There were no words. But couldn't he connect? His mother died in a fire, and he hadn't seen his father in years.

"There's really nothing to be sorry for. It happened so long ago, and I didn't even know them." Cas said, offering a smile. Dean smiled back, then brushed his face with his thumb. He didn't realize he started to cry... "Shh..." He whispered, his calloused hands felt so comforting on his skin.

Cas stifled his cry, smiling as the waitress placed two slices of cherry pie before them. Dean removed his hand, but he could feel the ghost of it brushing against his skin. He breathed a heavy breath and picked up a fork, his shaking disappearing into thin air.

"So, Dean Winchester. What's your story?" He asked before taking a bite, the flavour melting on his tongue. He fought the urge to moan with the satisfaction of the flavour. He caught Dean staring at his lips as they were poised on the fork. He fidgeted uncomfortably, and Dean let out a laugh, his head throwing back.

As his laughter died down, Dean took a bite and said with his mouth full, "I'm a serial killer and I bury bodies for a living." Cas narrowed his eyes, then threw his head back with laughter, unable to contain it.

"You're a very sloppy one, indeed." He replied, his heart melting as Dean laughed as well. Dean shook his head, taking another bite of his pie, still laying his eyes on his lips. He really didn't get enough, did he?

"My mother died when I was four, and I haven't seen my father since I was eight years. My brother, Sam, lives with my uncle. And I decided it wasn't good for Sam for me to be around, so I left and now I'm here." He replied simply, not showing a single emotion. Cas' heart sank a little. And he thought his life was horrible.

"Do you have a dream?" Cas asked, changing the topic.

"A dream?" He snorted, shrugging. "Not really. I once wanted to be a racer, but I don't think that's be good for me. So I'm still searching for a good enough one. One that's worth my while."

"That sounds reasonable," Cas said with a slow nod. Dean eyed him again as he picked at the dessert, the waitress with the name tag 'Jo' coming back and taking their plates as they finished.

"What are you doing the rest of the night?" Dean asked, placing a bill on the table. Cas would have protested, but he realized that there were no bills in his pocket. Cas shrugged lazily, unsure of what he had planned.

As they stood up and left, Cas said, "I have to study for an exam..." Dean tugged him into the impala and quickly started to drive off, a playful grin on his lips. "Please tell me you're bringing me home..." He moaned.

Dean laughed in response, turning a corner that lead towards his apartment, the engine roaring wildly. "The stalker is now a kidnapper?" Cas said as he didn't respond, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, laughing under his breath.

"Don't get me wrong: you absolutely dig the kidnappers!" Dean sung, glancing at Cas as he scoffed, and got out of the vehicle and strolling towards his apartment, hands in his pockets. He glanced over his shoulder with a wolfish grin, then slipped inside the apartment.

Cas followed after him, shaking his head as he slipped inside. Dean was a definite mystery, and very strange. He couldn't place which one he fit more into. Perhaps it was just fifty-fifty. He laughed to himself and walked up the apartment stairs, finding Dean slipping inside the flat, leaving the door wide open.

He slowly walked down the hall, his hands in his pockets, and his feet groaning against the floorboard. He inspected the doors, then, finally, entered the apartment. He looked around, finding everything exactly the same as he had first been here. The radio played classic rock, and he instantly recognized Night Moves. He smiled at the familiar lines, then couldn't help but think where Dean had gone. He shut the door and began to inspect the flat, searching everywhere but the bedroom.

Oh, of course, you idiot. Of course you'd hide in the bedroom. He sighed and opened up the door, finding nothing but a dark room. "What the--" Arms grabbed him around the waist, making him squeal with surprise. He shoved the hands off him and whirled around, his arms throwing back, glaring up at Dean. "What the hell!" He exclaimed, his voice deadly.

Dean let out an amused snort, wiping his eyes from tears. He didn't realize he had slapped him in the face. His face reddened, but he only waved him off. "Man, you're squirmy when you're scared!" He laughed.

Cas punched his arm, glaring. It only made him laugh more, the distance closing ever-so-slowly. He felt small before him, and he knew Dean could crush him any minute... But he didn't. He just continued to get closer, and closer, and closer... Until his breath was hot against his neck, shivers running down his spine. Dean's lips brushed his neck softly, moving slowly up to his cheek, teasing him. His eyes fluttered closed as he continued to kiss him in many different spots, until they ventured to his lips, hovering there for a faint moment. Cas nodded slowly, showing it was okay. He could feel Dean's smile as their lips collided, Dean tugging at his tie to bring him closer. How much closer could they possibly get?

"I really like you," Dean said in his lips, his thoughts scattering. He couldn't think, his mind was everywhere. He took Cas' chin with his hand, his face warming at the touch. "I really do..." His voice faded as he pushed Cas onto the bed, pinning him down. He let out a nervous laugh, unsure of where, exactly, this was going. Dean caged Cas beneath him, his mouth wavering over his own.

He wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling his lips toward his own, capturing them, his stomach tingling as Dean played with his shirt. He squeezed his leather jacket, the touch firm and comforting. His hands glided down his jacket, slipping his hands under and touching bare skin. Dean growled and moved to unbutton his shirt, his hands slowly unhooking them. Their tongues slowly tangled, and he couldn't get enough of him--this insatiable desire new to him. For some reason, he liked it. Cas held him closer until there wasn't enough room, and he had breathe. Dean pulled back for a moment, looking into his eyes, the glint of wanting practically scream from him.

"Let's take it slow," Cas breathed, receiving a curt nod from Dean. Then their lips crashed together, the slick touch of tongue on his own. Dean tugged at his hair, causing Cas to moan, his chin angling a different way. Dean moved a hand down his stomach, his back arching at the warm touch. So many emotions... So many different touches... Cas withdrew, his eyes wide. Dean stared at him for a long moment, giving him a pleased smile. He hadn't kissed anyone like that... ever.

Dean's hands slid down, reaching for his belt, but he caught his wrist. "I hardly know you, and you want to get into my pants?" He certainly wasn't ready for that. Dean gave a pout, then plopped himself beside Cas, a hand reaching for his chin. He looked into his emerald green eyes, his breath caught at the sight. He was so beautiful.

"Perhaps that'd be for another time," Dean suggested, grinning. Cas rolled his eyes, not breaking his stare away.

"You want there to be another time?" He asked, his eyes glinting with question. Dean nodded slowly, his hand slowly stroking his chin. He had never seen such a beautiful colour for eyes. They were so unnatural--out of this world.

"I always want there to be another time," he said, leaning in to capture his lips. For some reason, he wanted that too. He hardly knew him, but it seemed like they knew each other for decades. As if they'd been with each other their entire lives, oblivious to it.

"I do, too," he replied, running a hand down his cheek. He wanted to kiss him, badly... But he wasn't ready if it were to become deeper than that. He needed to know everything about him. "Tell me everything to know about you." He whispered, his breath warm against his skin.

"Where to begin?" Dean thought for a moment, his eyes lazily looking around. "I absolutely love classic rock; especially Zed Leppelin's Ramble On. I always put family first, and I crave pie... Hmm, I should probably scratched 'always put family first'. Pie always goes first!" He rambled.

Cas laughed, his eyes boring into his gem-like eyes. "I guess I have to have a word with the pie, then."

"Only if you can claim me before the pie does." Dean said with a wink, taking his breath away. His eyes showed almost everything about him. He could tell he was afraid--but afraid of what? Possibly losing something, or being rejected. He continued to read them, but it was as if Dean noticed and his opened door shut, locking it and throwing the key away. Couldn't he just open up?

After a few minutes of dazing, he hadn't realized he fell asleep, and blinked awake. What time was it? It was too dark to read his watch, and he wouldn't disrupt Dean's sleep by waking him up. He tiptoed out of the apartment and ran down the street, the frigid air biting at him. He had an exam in the morning! He continued to run, pushing his legs farther and farther, until they nearly buckled beneath his feet. He gasped for air, the cold air scratching at his lungs.

He had ran down the streets for about an hour, finally reaching his townhouse. He sighed with relief and slipped inside, making sure his steps were as light as possible. The floorboards unforgivingly creaked beneath each foot, making him curse as they grew louder. He slipped inside his room, shutting it quietly and plopped into bed, not bothering to strip his overcoat off. He was too exhausted to do anything.

He woke up in the morning, the light blinding him. He groaned and threw pillow at his brother as he stormed in. He wasn't thrilled for a lecture. Not today! "Where the fuck were you last night? We searched for hours and you wouldn't answer the phone!" Michael roared.

Cas pressed his palms into his eyes and sat up. "Out with friends," he replied with a yawn.

"Out with friends, he says. At a party, he says. It's the same old excuse, Cas! When can you learn to grow the hell up?" Michael gripped the handle so tight, Cas swore he would break it.

"Am I not allowed to have fun time-to-time?" He asked bitterly, glaring at his brother. He couldn't tell him about Dean... He didn't want to lose his brothers because of it.

"No! You have freaking school to attend, and while your sneaking about, how are you going to get into University?" He exclaimed, his voice softer than before. That was very strange, especially for Michael.

"I have always aced my tests, and I will get into college." He stood up and stretched his back. "Now get out so I can change." He shoved his brother out, slamming the door behind him. His phone instantly began to ring, and when he checked it, it read 'Unknown'. He frowned and picked it up, yawning a "Hello?"

"Where did you go, last night?" Dean's voice said on the other line. How did he get his number? Probably his usual tricks.

"You know we have school, right? And that I have angry brothers at home, who have already scolded me." He said blandly, stripping off his clothes and replacing them with clean ones. He sat on the edge of his bed, letting out another yawn.

"I want to see you tonight," Dean said, more-so of a command.

"I have exams and I have to study."

"I can help you study for them!" Didn't he ever go to school?

"My brothers would kill me--"

"I'll sneak in and then out, no worries. Or you can just come over to my place again...?" He could see the ghost of his grin, the glint of his eyes, and obviously his famous wink.

"If I am out again, my brothers will murder me. So come by tonight, and make sure you're quiet. The house squeaks a lot."

"Well, that'll be hard, 'cause I'll be rocking your--"

"Oh go to hell," he said with a shake of his head, hanging up the phone. He had to get used to this behaviour... And he couldn't help but think Dean craved for more.

He ran down the stairs, ignoring his brother's deadly stares, and ran out. He walked to the high school, backpack slung over his shoulder as he rounded the corner, finding the Chevy Impala humming. Dean leaned against the hood, grinning at him. Cas shook his head, walking past him. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean called, racing towards his side. He kept pace with him, his green eyes fixed on Cas.

"School, obviously. And that's where you should be going, too." He began to hum a Weeknd song that he heard at the party. The song that he couldn't get out of his head, and he didn't know why.

Dean's face turned a red hue, but didn't falter. "Yeah, yeah. I was just so excited to see you, I couldn't wait." He told him, a nervous edge to it. Cas glanced at Dean, giving a toothy smile.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Cas said, and Dean slung an arm around his shoulder. He wasn't sure if anyone was watching, but did that matter? They continued towards the school, but once they reached it, they didn't see each other all day. His heart dropped as Dean wasn't waiting for him outside, nor the hallways. Maybe he had things to do... he thought, biting his lip. Was he getting jealous?

Charlie and Kevin had bothered him all day, bugging him about Hannah. He nearly snapped as they wouldn't stop, but he found her on the other side of the hallway, staring at him. He bored his eyes on her, biting his lip. What should he do?

He walked towards her, hands in his pockets. She looked angry--distant. He inhaled a long breath and simply said, "Hi."

"Hi? That's all you have to offer?" Hannah shook her head disbelievingly. "I showed that I care, and how did you repay me? I saw the way you acted around him." He knew she was referring to Dean. Was it that obvious? "You just shoved me away and went after him!"

"Hannah, I'm sorry. I only thought of us as friends... But now..." His voice trailed off, knowing he was coming across as a jerk.

"But now we're nothing. Just acquaintances that see each other around, not bothering to say hello." She snarled, turning her back stubbornly. She was acting like a child! He was tempted to spin her around and yell at her--to put sense in her mind--but he just couldn't. So he walked away, not sparing her another glance. Fine. If she didn't want to be friends, he was fine with that. At least, he thought he would.

He found himself storming out of the school, ignoring the calls after him. His head spun, his heart hammered and silver lined his eyes. Why did he care, anyways? They were only friends. And friends understood when they chose differently... Why couldn't she?

When he walked passed the Impala, he completely missed Dean as he puffed on his cigarette. His feet thundered passed, and he heard an extra pair behind him, a voice faintly calling his name. But he hardly heard it... he hardly heard the car as it zoomed passed, nearly crashing into him as Dean grabbed his collar and pulled him aside.

He shook Cas until he could see. Until he could think once again. "Cas!" He pleaded, then he snapped his attention to his eyes. He saw concern and fear, the door nearly opening. "You nearly died, dammit!"

"And you saved me once agin." He whispered, his body shaking. He almost was hit by a car... He could have died, if Dean hadn't been there. It was a damn miracle. Dean held him tight as he embraced him, nearly suffocating the life out of him. "I swear you're trying to murder me now, serial killer," he mumbled into his shirt, breathing in his scent as his arms gave him so much warmth.

After a couple moments, he pulled away, allowing air to flow down his lungs. Dean let out a shaky breath, clearly nervous. Why was he so worried about him? Why did he care so much? "Don't you fucking do that again."

Cas shook his head. "I can't make no promises." He pressed his forehead into his chest, and after a while, he was lead to the impala. He sank into the leather seat, his head leaning on the window. It was so cool...

They pulled up to Cas' house, and he furrowed his brows. "This certainly isn't sneaking into my house." He told him.

Dean laughed softly. "I'm just dropping you off. The real break-in begins tonight!" He purred as Cas got out of the vehicle.

"See you then," then he walked up the front steps, making sure his brothers weren't there to scold him, and plopped onto the couch. He needed to study, even though he was to do so later that night. He couldn't help but think if that was exactly what Dean intended to do.

When the sun had set and the moon rose, Cas was splayed across the couch, snoring away. His brothers said they were to play poker that night, and it was perfectly safe for Dean to walk in, but he had completely forgotten about it. The radio played silently, Elvis humming through the speakers. He hummed in his sleep to the song, his foot slightly tapping against the couch.

The window rolled up and a shadowed figure hopped in, the floorboards groaning loudly as the intruder walked in freely. Cas jolted awake and spun around, facing Dean. He let out a sigh of relief and leaned into the couch, rubbing his forehead. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I love it when you're jumpy," he whispered into his ear, making him shiver, then plopped himself beside him. His gaze flicked towards the radio, smiling. "Elvis?" He asked, slightly confused.

"Is there something wrong with falling asleep to his music?"

"No. Not at all." He replied, leaning in Cas' shoulder.

I wonder if you're lonesome tonight.

You know someone said that the world's a stage.

And each must play a part.

He hummed aloud, the music melting into his soul. He loved classic music, and he couldn't help but notice how Dean jammed along, tapping his hands lightly on the couch. Castiel watched him for a long moment, his face heating up as Dean looked back. They were silent for a while, making Cas restless.

"So what are we studying?" Dean asked, breaking the silence.

He contemplated for a moment, then replied simply, "physics." Dean gave him a long, bored look.

"Physics? Seriously?" He snorted, his eyes glinting playfully, casting him a seductive grin. Cas fidgeted uncomfortably, knowing Dean, he would probably try something. After not even a week, he knew a lot about him. "I thought you were becoming a doctor."

"I can study whatever the hell I want," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Dean blushed lightly. "Yeah, you can. But I thought you'd be more interested in the human anatomy, not the study of nature."

Cas crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "There are many things I'm interested in, Dean, and you don't even know half of them."

Dean stared at him for a long moment, reading something. Why could he always see something that he couldn't? "You are interested in becoming a doctor; you are interested in physics; you clearly like men; you love classic rock; you always hide from your brothers, and you are clearly running from something..."

His eyes widened, shifting nervously. "How did you know all of that?" Yes, some he had already told... But about his brothers...

"You make things very obvious, my friend," he purred. "Something in the way you view the world... the way your eyes dull at the mention of your brothers... There's something there and I cannot place it. You're one hell of a mystery."

"You're really observant, aren't you?" He asked, pressing into the couch as Dean's body shifted closer. They had made out earlier, but he didn't quite feel comfortable with this situation.

"You have no idea. And you... you tend to show things far more than you intend. Maybe that's why people tend to stay away." 'People tend to stay away? ' What the hell did that mean?

"You know you can be a real jerk at times," he snarled, standing up with a deadly glare. He clenched his fists, and watched as Dean raised his arms in defence. Yes, he may be reserved and awkward, but he couldn't help it. His past was unnerving and his brothers always brought him down.

"I didn't mean to offend--"

"I would like you to leave now." He crossed his arms, something inside him dropping. He really did think Dean was different--that he was better--but he knew that he had to be hiding. Dean gave him a hurt look.

"Cas, don't be that way. I really didn't mean it in a bad way..." His words trailed off, noting Cas' angered expression.

"Then what the hell did you mean?" He snapped. He didn't appreciate being called different, nor did he appreciate being told that people stayed away. He never really noticed it, but did people think he was... strange? He didn't realize how much this hurt him, especially coming from Dean.

"You put up a barrier, and people know that if they get too close... It's just that it's really hard when your life has been shit, and all you can do is look down at people. Always end up being disappointed..." He told him.

Cas shook his head, laughing with no amusement. "That's not me at all. Perhaps that may be you, but I have never looked down at this little world. Yes, people may be jerks and crush you in any way possible, but it's a way to survive. People survive in their own ways. And it seems you're the one that has to crush and hurt others around you. You use people and I know it."

Dean stood up quickly, his movements showing his anger. Oh, finally he could see the real him. "You want to know why I can be a jerk at times? It's because my mother died in a fucking fire and my father abandoned my brother and I at the worst time of our life! I shut people out, knowing that one day, all they will do is disappoint and forget about you." He snarled. Now Cas felt small, knowing Dean could just crush him if he wanted to, and it couldn't take long. "I know I'm a jerk, and god, I wish I wasn't. But it's who I am, and I don't give a rat's ass if I can't change it. But when I met you, I wanted to be better--wanted to be different. But I knew I couldn't, and I hoped you'd understand. But you're just like the others."

Dean was turning everything around... But hadn't he been a jerk in his own way, too? He let out a long sigh, pressing two fingers into the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to fight, especially with him. They only just met, but he wanted things to be better. "I know how you feel, believe me, I know. And I never asked you to change--I never asked for anything. I'm just tired... tired of everything."

Dean's shoulders fell, his eyes softening. "I know..." He murmured. They stood there like that for a long time, until Dean finally said, "should we start to study?" He scratched the back of his neck, smiling a bit at Cas.

He nodded slowly and sat down, pulling out a notebook. "I will kill you if you try anything," he joked, receiving an amused laugh from Dean. He was glad this fight was over...

They studied for hours, but he could see the temptation in Dean's eyes. He couldn't help but roll his eyes, the fight earlier disappearing into thin air. He didn't realize he fell asleep, and Dean had slipped out of the house before his brothers returned. He didn't know why he was so disappointed, but he knew it was for the best. If Michael and Gabriel found someone sleeping in their house, they'd freak and scold him endlessly.

But when he returned to school that morning, Dean once again wasn't there.


	4. Four; Bullies and Brothers

"I told you to never let go,

Because I'll be waiting for you,

On the other side."

 

 

Castiel walked down the busy halls of the high school. He never felt so alone, knowing that Dean wasn't there beside him. Oh course there was something between them... He truly liked Dean Winchester, but he knew him for just over a week! It was strange how life worked, falling for someone you hardly know. But was he actually falling for him? He had no freaking idea. 

He reached his locker, unlocking it quickly and stuffing his bag inside. He grabbed his notebooks then shut it, turning around to bump into a broad man. He instantly thought it was Dean, his cheeks burning red, but then realized he was far, far from it.

Alastair. His legs began to shake, knowing what was to come. He gulped, watching as he stood close, caging him to the bitingly cold metal, his lock digging into flesh. "Hey, faggot," he hissed, receiving snickers from behind. What the fuck was his problem?

"U-uh, what d-do you want?" He struggled for words, his whole body feeling as if it were shrinking...

"Remember our little deal?" He hissed vaguely, his voice suppressing his memories. He knew what was to come, and he wasn't thrilled. Heck, he was afraid.

"Wh-what deal?" He shockingly asked, pushing against the locker, hoping it would allow him to be free. Why couldn't anyone help? Why did they always pick on him?

Alastair picked at his teeth with his nail, his revolting breath illuminating around him. He nearly gaged. "You don't remember?" He scoffed, shaking his head amusingly. "Every Tuesday, you will give me your lunch money, and I won't push you around." That deal was made two years ago! They were in freaking grade ten then! He literally thought it was over, because it had been weeks since he paid up. 

"I didn't bring money..." He whispered, eyes travelling anywhere but that face. The spiky hair, the strange red eyes and a very, very pointy chin. Everything about Alastair gave him the creeps, and maybe that was the point? Creeping out other kids and bullying them? He had no idea.

"Bullshit!" He snapped, his hands reaching for his shirt.

"Don't y-you fucking touch me, you ass!" He yelled, accidentally pushing him aside. Alastair slammed into one of his bickering friends--Azazel, he recalled, with the ever-so-strange yellow eyes.

Alastair recovered himself, stroking his chin. He laughed bitterly, his eyes flashing with ire. Oh shit. "What the fuck did you just say?" He snarled, pushing him harder against the locker. His head slammed into the metal, stars covering his vision. He blinked them away, glaring at the horrid boy.

"I said: don't you fucking touch me, you ass." He rephrased, sudden confidence filling his bones. But it quickly turned into thin air as a fist met his jaw, the notebooks dropping from his hands. He clutched his jaw, staggering to the side, but Alastair held him firm. He was having the worst week of his life...

"Don't you ever talk to me that way, you faggot!" He spat, saliva spreading across his face. He moved to wipe it away, but he slammed him against the locker once again, his vision blackening for a moment. He couldn't help but wonder if he would end it, right then and now. But did he have the guts?

"Is there a problem?" He heard Dean's voice. His heart beat fast, his eyes widening at the sound. His vision cleared, meeting eyes with gem-like eyes. He actually came...

"Just this faggot not minding his business." Alastair laughed, swaggering back a step.

Dean shook his head, his grin deadly. "Well, this 'faggot' is my friend, and if you touch him again--"

"You'll do what, exactly? Seduce me with your grins? Tell on my da'? I don't give a rat's ass what you say, and I suggest you go walk away." Alastair replied bitterly, his eyes trailing across Dean as if he were prey.

"I had something much better in mine, you little fucker," Dean snarled, and in a blink of an eye, Dean had struck Alastair to the ground, kicking his stomach as he wheezed and clutched his stomach. The crew let out surprised gasps, unsure of what to do. Castiel sank low to the ground, smiling widely. Dean had come.

Dean kicked him one last time, making sure he couldn't get back up for another five minutes. The people walking down the halls hurriedly passed, wide eyed and entered classrooms, all whispering. Dean crouched in front of him, eying him worriedly. "Are you okay?" He asked, inspecting every inch of him. His eyes were deadly... ferocious. He was like a wild animal, waiting for the next attack.

He nodded. "I'm fine," he replied. Dean narrowed his eyes, unsure if he believed him. But after a bit, his eyes softened, and rested his forehead on his own. He winced with pain as his head was forced back into the locker, and Dean quickly removed his head.

"Let me see..." He slowly tilted his head to the side, finding a welt. "Those bastards," he hissed, turning around and finding them running away, not sparing another glance. "They'll get what's coming for them."

Cas shook his head. "They're just homophobic idiots. They'll grow up sooner or later. It's best to just leave it alone--"

"Leave it alone? They just beat your ass!" Dean exclaimed, fury written all over his gaze. The door nearly opened... He almost glimpsed past it, but it shut as quickly as it could. Cas frowned a bit, letting Dean hull him up.

"They're just jerks. I wouldn't want you involved." He replied nervously, their lips inches away.

"Babe, I'm already involved. Let's hope that they're doors are locked at night." Dean huffed, grabbing the fallen notebooks, then leading Cas down the hall. He wasn't sure where they were going, but he supposed it was the Medical room.

Cas didn't even bother replying, knowing whatever he said, Dean wouldn't back down. Cas admired that though. Dean was like his knight in shining armour, ready to save the day... But he didn't need that, did he? He wanted to be able to defend himself and not depend on others. But sometimes he wasn't able to fight back, and he did need someone. 

People watched them closely, and he could faintly hear their whispers: what is he doing with him? Maybe Dean was right... People did tend to stay away. But he didn't give a shit. They could think whatever the hell they wanted, and they wouldn't know the damn truth.

Once they reached the Medical room, the nurse quickly cleaned his wounds. Dean watched intently, squeezing his hand whenever he flinched. He definitely needed this. The room was plain, and he sat on the table, watching the nurse run to one place to another. He didn't know what, exactly, she was doing, but he admired every move. If he were to be a doctor, he'd have to pay attention.

Once he was all cleaned up, Dean helped him from the room, leading him down the hall once again. The students had retreated to their classrooms, but he could feel their ghost presence... Their taunting stares and whispers. He shivered and felt his side press closer to his friend. He heard a low "shh" come from Dean, almost like a whistle. He thought they were going to class, but he found themselves outside, the cold air biting their flesh.

"Shouldn't we be at school?" Cas questioned, furrowing his brows.

"You just got your ass kicked, and you want to be at school?" Dean said seriously, his seductive grin never spreading across his lips. For some reason, what happened really hit him. But why?

"I guess I see your point," he murmured. Once they reached the midnight black Impala, he got into the passenger's side and listened to the engine purr as Dean started the engine. It was a beautiful and comforting sound. For some reason, it put him at ease.

As they drove off, he looked out the window, watching the world zoom past. The trees were covered with fire-like leaves, flickering with colour. He loved this season, despite the cold. It was absolutely beautiful with all the colour, and it brought him joy. He nuzzled in his tan trench coat, watching several cars drive past, and diverse human beings strolling down the streets. He could smell the fresh bread from the bakery shop, even when they sat in this old vehicle that smelled like leather and mint.

Dean pulled into a parking lot, cutting the engine. Cas looked around, unsure of what was happening. He eyed the scene around them, noting the coffee shop and the people walking in and out, clutching hot chocolate in their hands.

"What are we doing?" Castiel asked cautiously, getting out as Dean did.

"Getting a drink," he made an obvious face, mouthing "duh". Cas shook his head, laughing a bit.

"I didn't bring any money," he told Dean. He never brought money with him to school, because he never knew what came around the corner... He blinked the memories away, eying Dean's emerald eyes.

"Good thing I'm buying, then," Dean grinned, heading towards the entrance. He followed after, his body exposed to extremely warm air. He itched to take his jacket off, but he decided against it, knowing that it would give him shelter. He eyed the coffee shop, watching two children sip away at their drinks. He smiled as he saw excitement and joy in their eyes.

Cas sat himself at a table, while Dean quickly bought two warm, delicious cups of hot cocoa. He hadn't had this for a long time! He usually just drank coffee, probably because it was cheaper. When Dean handed him a cup, he took it eagerly, instantly taking a sip. The taste was delicious and warm on his tongue, the after taste exploding in his mouth.

"It's as if you hadn't had hot chocolate for a millennia!" Dean exclaimed, watching with amusement. Castiel's face heated up and leaned back in his wooden chair. Dean took a sip of his own, watching expectantly, a boyish smile tugging st his lips.

"It's been a couple years, to be honest." He said, taking another delicious sip.

Dean nodded, clutching the warm cup between his hands. "I'm glad I got to be the one who had you try it after so many years." Dean told him, a soft smile warming his lips. He was glad about it, too. And every moment... A bit of his life pieced together. It was as if Dean was the other half of his puzzle...

"I'm glad I met you, Dean." He admitted, his heart all of a sudden racing like humming bird's wings. Dean smiled, leaning in a tad.

"I'm glad I met you, too, Castiel." He replied, his white teeth flashing. Castiel couldn't bring down his smile. He didn't know these feelings fluttering in his stomach, making him feel as if he were drowning as he didn't tell them out loud... But he was afraid with what Dean would say. If he felt them same... So he kept his mouth shut. He didn't even know if he could trust these feelings torturing him!

A sudden silence filled the air, the whole world fading out around them. "Shall we get out of here?" Dean asked after a couple minutes, finishing the last of his cocoa.

Cas nodded, smiling. "Yes. And thank you," he nodded and stood up. Dean waved him off and started towards the door. He didn't even realize everyone in the cafe had left, leaving them two alone.

They got into his Impala, and Dean began to drive. He recognized this road, and knew they were headed towards Dean's apartment. Once they arrived, they walked inside the flat, and Dean turned on the radio. Dust in The Wind--if he recalled it correctly--was the name of the song. It was beautiful, and he absolutely loved Kansas. They plopped onto his couch, watching each other nervously.

Dean leaned in slowly, Cas' lips parting, and his lips delicately met Dean's. They had kissed before... But this seemed different. Softer, calmer... Kinder. Cas' hand wrapped around Dean, being caged beneath his body. Dean's lips travelled down his neck, shivering sensations electrocuting his body. His hands moved to his shirt, playing with the bottom. Cas gave a curt nod, his back arching as his fingers trailed against his stomach as he pulled it off his body. His lips ventured to Cas' once again, his lips hungrier... Wanting more and more. This insatiable desire intrigued him, and he forced Dean closer till their bodies met like puzzle pieces--once they fit perfectly, it would hurt to detach.

His hands tugged at Dean's sandy hair, receiving a groan in response. "I need you," he said between their lips, his breath warming in his mouth. 

"Stay the night?" Dean pulled back for a moment, searching his eyes. Castiel nodded in response, and their lips crashed against each other once again. He wanted him. Badly.

He woke in the morning to his phone buzzing. It sounded like thunder, constantly crashing with lightning and fury. He yawned and reached for the Samsung, reading "Michael". His eyes widened, instantly waking him up. He never informed that he was going to be gone all night!

"I am so sorry!" He said hurriedly as he picked up, clutching it close to his ear.

"Where the fuck are you! We're worried sick!" He heard worry and anger mixed between his words. 

"I was staying at a friends--"

Michael interrupted, "we called Charlie and Kevin, and they both said they didn't see you at school, nor did you go to their houses. So don't you dare lie to me, Castiel. I want to hear the truth come from your mouth, or you won't hear the end of it for a long, long time."

Cas gulped, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't even realize they moved to the bed... He really wished Dean was awake to help him, but he wouldn't force him out of his slumber. "Can we talk about this later?" He asked, it barely more than a whisper. If he were to confess the truth... It should be in person.

Michael let out a long sigh, and he could see the ire in his eyes... Well, he just knew that's how he always looked whenever Cas pissed him off. "I want you home in one hour." And with that, the other line hung up and he could hear the beep of disconnection. He let out a shaky sigh.

Should he wake him up? He bit his lip and shook Dean's shoulder carefully, ignoring the fact that they both were bare from clothes. Dean groaned and turned over, smiling at the sight of him. "Mornin."

"I have to go, or my brothers will literally murder me." He said softly, seriousness glinting in his eyes. Dean frowned.

"You can't stay any longer?" He made a pouty face, stroking a finger along his chin. Cas leaned into the touch and shook his head.

"I have to go. I'll text you," he said.

"Promise?" He asked, his emerald eyes locking into his own. What did he see in him? He was so damn lucky to have him. To have someone to actually like him.

"I promise." He said truthfully, then hoisted himself out of bed, throwing on his clothes. He looked back at Dean, whom had fallen asleep once again, already snoring, and slipped out of the apartment.

The sun was just rising, and the air was unforgivably cooler at this time of day. He hissed st the bitingly cold air, nuzzling into the ever-so-thin jacket, hurriedly walking down the empty streets. His thoughts kept on wandering to last night... About how they did more than make out. His face heated despite the cold, suddenly feeling flustered. He didn't even think twice about what he did. And he knew then that he was falling in love with Dean. He loved him.

A smile spread across his lips, knowing that he would tell him soon. The only thing that worried him is if Dean rejected him... No. Don't think that way! He already showed that they had bigger feelings than 'like'. His heart itched with excitement. He never expected to ever love anyone. Sure, he loved his brothers... But they were assholes, and it was hard to comprehend life with those two jackass'.

He finally reached his home, his heart sinking as he remembered what was going to happen. He sucked in a breath, holding it until he walked in, exhaling it quickly. Instantly his brothers walked into the room. Gabriel looked worried for him. What a shocker! He had never seen him look so... Sorry.

Michael crossed his arms, leaning against the chipped wall. "So? Where the hell were you?" He demanded.

He eyed Gabriel for a moment, receiving an encouraged nod, then looked at Michael. It was so hard to lay eyes on him... Seeing that anger and betrayal. Nothing kind and brotherly about it. It was more so like an angered father who drank too much, and who didn't give a damn about the world.

"It's okay, Cassie, you can tell us." Gabriel said softly. Why did his behaviour change so much? Why did he care?

Castiel eyed them for a moment longer, then exhaled another long breath. "I was with Dean, alright?"

Michael narrowed his eyes, not exactly understanding. "Dean? The guy that continuously picks you up?" Castiel nodded in response. Michael's eyes hardened, and his fears were about to come true. "You slept over at his house?" Castiel nodded again, his legs shaking. "What the fuck did you guys do?" He roared, his voice vibrating through his bones.

He saw Gabriel's eyes widen, and Cas stumbled back a step. "W-we... Talked..." His voice trailed off, knowing that Michael detected the lie. 'Talked' was an understatement. 'Fucked' was the correct term.

" You 'talked'?" Michael laughed bitterly. "I doubt that's all you did, you fag." He hissed. Those words... Tears welled in his eyes, shaking his head vigorously, murmuring 'no' endlessly. "I want to know what you two exactly did!"

"It's none of your damn business!" He snapped, clenching his fists. His sucked back his tears, his face growing hot with anger.

"Damn right it is! You're my little bother, and I didn't raise a cocksucker in my home." What on earth was his problem? Why couldn't he accept who he was like so many others?

Castiel shook his head, a sob escaping his mouth. "Why do you even give a shit about who I love, Michael? Why can't you accept that I am in love with a man? It is my life, and I can't understand why you give a rat's ass about me!"

"You're my little brother, for christ's sake! And it's a sin!" Michael exclaimed, his words more bitter than before. A sin? A sin to love someone? Who the fuck would ever believe that shit? It was like saying that eating was a sin! It was like saying that you weren't allowed to love anyone, unless you were straight. What a bunch of assholes. Why were they so evil?

Castiel had enough. He ran out the door, slamming it shut behind him, ignoring the angry shouts from behind him that yelled: if you ever fucking come back, you better have asked for forgiveness!

He would never ask for forgiveness to a man that said love was evil. Who said that you shall be condemned to hell for having feelings. He stormed down the streets, ignoring that curious looks from passing humans. I didn't raise a cocksucker in my home! It's a sin! Those words haunted him, never leaving.

Why didn't Gabriel help? Perhaps he thought Michael was right... His eyes burned with ire, tears flowing down his cheeks. He never felt so empty... So alone. He stumbled a couple more steps, then collapsed into lush grass. He exploded with tears, knowing he could never go home. Knowing that they would only reject him and call him a fag. His breath came out like sobs, uneven and horrible.

Why couldn't they accept him?

He didn't know how long he laid there, but a hand touched his shoulder. He jumped, pawing at his eyes. His vision was bleary, but he made out a man. "Are you alright?" The voice asked. Who was it?

"I'm fine..." He whispered. Those two words only covered up the truth. He would never be fine. His brothers... He couldn't think about it any longer. He needed to run!

"Are you sure?" The voice asked again, his vision clearing. He didn't recognize him. He just nodded in response, standing up. He pawed again at his red, puffy eyes. "Is there some thing I could do to help?"

"Just leave me alone." He snapped, then walked away, ignoring the calls. He didn't need pity. They wouldn't understand!

He found himself walking someplace that he knew he'd be safe--where he's be accepted. He found himself at the entrance of Dean's door, knocking continuously. He sniffled, the tears draining, but he still felt empty. After a couple more knocks, the door swung open, and a tired Dean answered.

"Hey--" he took in Cas, his eyes widening. "Are you alright?" He asked with worry, letting him in. He shook his head slowly, letting Dean sit him on the couch. "What happened?"

Cas sighed, resting his cheek on his shoulder, trying to contain his sobs. "My brothers... They kicked me out."

"They did what? Why?" His voice was so angry... He flinched at his tone.

"They found out that I'm gay... And that I fell in love with a man." Cas sighed. Dean held him closer, resting a chin on his silky, black hair.

"They didn't accept you for who you are?" He whispered. He shook his head, nuzzling into his chest. "I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be. They're just homophobic idiots." He said bitterly, his back tickling at Dean's strokes. He was glad he was being held in his arms... That he knew he could be safe. Dean nodded, breathing in his scent.

After a couple minutes, Dean said, "you said that you fell in love with a man?" He questioned, sounding curious and a bit on edge.

Castiel looked up, his face warming. "Yeah..."

"Who would that be?" He stroked his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel grinned, his thoughts pushing away. He sucked in all the courage he had and said, "you." Dean grinned wolfishly, pressing his lips against his own.

"I think I fell in love with you, too," he murmured between their kiss. Castiel pulled away, his heart lifting. Why did he even fear of being rejected? Sure, his brothers pushed him away... But why would Dean?

~

 

The breeze kissed his cheek as Cas sat on the lush, green grass of the field. He looked over at Dean, who laid against the back of the world, his gaze fixed upon the blue sky. Cas smiled softly, admiring his beautiful features. For a man, he was the most gorgeous being he'd ever laid eyes on. And honestly, he was surprised that he even wanted him

But he knew that Dean loved him to the moon and back. Laying back and snuggling himself into the male's arms, the male murmured:

"It's nice out here." Dean looked at him, his emerald green eyes glinting thoughtfully.

"I couldn't agree with you more," he replied.

Cas smiled softly, brushing his hand slightly against the male's stubble. "I'm glad I met you." It was random, but true. If he hadn't met Dean... Who knew what would have become of him now.

Dean's smile turned into a smirk. Wolfish, but handsome all the same. "Same," he whispered, planting a kiss on his forehead. "If you hadn't bumped into me at the party and acted like such a dork, I honestly would have gone crazy."

It was sweet, but Castiel said, "You don't know that."

"But I do!" He exclaimed, causing Castiel to laugh. "I can still see my past self. Dull, lifeless... Unhappy. You showed me a light that I never knew of, and now, everything clear. I was drowning back then in a waterless lake. I couldn't breathe every moment of the day, and I pretended I was alright. But I wasn't; I truly wasn't fine. You, Cas, saved me from the ruins that wanted to bury me underground and kill me."

Castiel didn't even realize that he started to cry. Dean bean to brush his tears away, a soft and meaningful smile on his lips. He melted into his arms, shaking his head slowly. "I didn't realize..."

"And that's fine, Cas. I didn't want you to know, but now you do. I'm glad." Cas looked up at him through his lashes, his heart pumping at an increased rate. "I love you so much, Cas." Those words nearly broke him.

"And I love you, too," he murmured back.

"What would I do without you?" He inquired with a smirk.

"Cry into your pillow all night, get drunk at a couple bars, repeat..." Dean barked a laugh, and Cas' spirits lifted just in that moment. Everything was utterly perfect, and he didn't want anything to change.

"You have no idea how true that is," Dean said. Before dean could react, he took the camera that had been at his side and snapped a picture of the male. Grinning, the male said:

"Oh, I know how true it is, Dean."

"Mean," Dean grumbled jokingly. Cas grinned, and then closed his eyes, savoring the male's warmth. He never wanted this to end. Ever.


	5. Five; Christmas and Jokes

"When they beat me, You healed me,

When they teased me, You defended me,

When they killed me, You saved me."

 

 

Two Years Later - December 24, 2016

 

The grandfather clock ticked, the fire in the mantel crackled, and Castiel held a photo in his hands. It was Dean and Cas, throwing their black caps up into the air. Dean's smile was grand, his arm wrapped around his shoulder. He never looked so happy, besides the day they confessed their feelings.

They had moved into a bigger apartment, which was in a better neighbourhood. It looked, surprisingly, a lot like the other, except there was an extra room (it was a three bedroom) and a fireplace. It was very roomy, and the walls were all painted white, and the christmas tree fitted perfectly in the corner.

Bobby, Dean's uncle, had passed away because of a stroke last year. Dean had been distraught and depressed for a few months, but he gradually got over it. Sam had moved back in, so the apartment had come in handy for the three of them.

Dean had went to college for law enforcement, while Cas was accepted to University to become a doctor, and he was to start in two weeks. He had been caught up in a lot of work, and Dean was gone most of the time, studying more than usual. He was accepted two years ago, instantly going to college after school.

He hadn't seen Alastair for two years, and he was absolutely grateful. But the fact that he hadn't heard from his brothers... For some reason, it pained him. Yes, they called him a faggot and shut him out of their lives... But he didn't want that to be the end of their relationship. Maybe they still hated him. He was still angry, and he knew they still rejected him for what he was, but just something inside him wanted to see their faces one last time.

He closed his eyes, squeezing the photo, nearly breaking the glass. He let out a shaky breath and placed the frame back on the mantel, and sat down on the couch. Dean was out, running some errands. Castiel had offered to help, but he said he was fine doing them alone. 

The fire beamed in the room, illumining it with its orange light. He watched it dance, hearing it crackle. After minutes of sitting there, bored out of his mind, he decided to play the radio. He clicked the power button, music instantly playing. Dust In The Wind bursted through the small speakers, the words comforting him. He smiled and snuggled into his christmas sweater, his eyes finding their way to the tree. The white lights flickered lightly, and the ornaments sparkled. It was a beautiful time of the year, and he couldn't wait for the morning once Christmas peaked around the corner.

It wasn't about the presents that made him happy, it was the fact that people were kind enough to share. To actually give others things, even when they didn't have the money to do so. He wandered towards the window, which was frosted over. He wiped a hand on the cold glass, watching snow drift past. He could see christmas lights everywhere, illuminating the world with their beautiful colours. People danced past, all in fuzzy wool hats and coats. It was a beautiful winter.

When the grandfather clock hit 11:00 p.m, Castiel's heart began to pound with worry. Where was Dean? Why wasn't he home? He tapped his fingers on the wooden coffee table, staring at the door, waiting. He anxiously looked at the clock, finding that ten minutes already past. It seemed like hours upon hours. Where the hell was Dean?

He grabbed his phone, turning on messages. He hadn't texted...

Castiel: Dean, where are you?

He paced around the room, hearing Sam snore away in his room. Why was he so worried? Dean always came home. He was always okay. He plopped back onto the couch, pawing at his eyes. He was going to come home.

After another hour, his phone finally buzzed.

Dean: I'm so sorry I didn't call! I just got caught up with some things.

Cas sighed with relief, wiping away the tears that had streamed down his cheeks. He didn't have to get so worried. He knew Dean was alright.

Castiel: It's fine. I just got impatient. 

Dean: :) Coming home right now.

Castiel: Love you!

Dean: I know :).

He smiled and placed the phone on the table, leaning into the grey couch. Why had he been so worried? He shook his head and waited for Dean's return. His eyes drooped sleepily, but he forced himself to stay awake, for his excitement was too great. The warmth of the fire enveloped him, but he still snuggled in a wool blanket, despite the fire and his sweater. 

The door slowly creaked open, and Cas instantly rushed towards the door and pulled Dean inside. Dean laughed, pulling him into a lustful kiss. He shut the door, nearly slamming it, as their bodies crashed into the wooden frame. His heart beat fast, his arms wrapping around his neck, never wanting to let him go. He needed this--he needed him.

"Slow down there, tiger," Dean purred. Something dug into his stomach, and Castiel withdrew, grinning. "I got you something." He held up the box, it was slightly rustling.

"But it's not Christmas," he took the box from him, screeching as it moved in his hands.

Dean laughed a bit, nearly forgetting that his brother was sleeping. "It's midnight, isn't it? So that means it's already the holiday." He didn't at all seem shaken as the box rustled. Cas rolled his eyes and plopped onto the couch, patting the seat beside him. Dean joined him, nuzzling into his side. "What are you waiting for?" He asked as Cas just stared at it.

"It better not be a snake," he muttered, receiving a swat on his arm. He snorted and carefully ripped the wrapping, opening it up to find a... puppy? "Oh my god! You realize dogs need to breathe!" He screeched, carefully removing the poor creature out and holding it in his arms.

"Hey! It's only been an hour, and I poked a couple holes in the box." Dean said defensively. 

The dog stared at him wide-eyed, it's golden fur reflecting the flames of the fireplace. "Thank you," he said softly to his boyfriend, resting a cheek on his shoulder.

"What are you gonna name him?" He asked him, scratching the dog behind the ear. Cas shrugged, looking into the green eyes of the dog. It reminded him so much of Dean...

A door creaked open and Sam's voice moaned, "shut up, you guys!" 

Cas looked behind and smiled apologetically. "Sorry." Sam rolled his eyes and shut the door. Dean snorted and wrapped an arm around Cas. He stared at the puppy, wondering what they should call him. It was beautiful, and he could tell that it was a golden retriever. The fur shone brightly, despite the time of day. His eyes bored into his own, a smile perking his mouth. "Jesper."

"Jesper?" Dean questioned, stroking the dog's golden fur.

"Is there something wrong with the name?" Cas asked, looking at Dean.

"Absolutely not! I just expected something more... dog-ish?" Dog-ish? What on earth was dog-ish? Cas shrugged it off and held Jesper close to him, leaning into Dean. "I love you," he murmured into his ear, his breath sending a shiver down his spine.

"I love you, too," he yawned, sleep taking over. Dean laughed softly and kissed his forehead, making sure the blanket was wrapped around his body as he let him fall asleep. He sat there, holding Cas in his arms, until the fire burned out and he, too, fell asleep.

He woke up to his face being enveloped with kisses. He rustled, pushing away the little body, fur tangling into his fingers. Once he thought it was done, a tongue was dragging along his face once again, making him open his eyes, swatting Jesper away.

"Leave me alone, you lump!" He exclaimed, wrapping the small body in his arms. The dog made a whine, anxiously wagging his tail and pacing the room. He didn't even realize he fell asleep in the living room, leaning against Dean.

"Alright, alright," he said over Dean's snoring, then carried the dog downstairs, forgetting his coat. He shivered, his feet sinking in snow. "Crap." He cursed, waiting for the dog to do his business. The dog circled around, making him cringe and look away. Why were they so care free with shitting?

Once Jesper finished, Cas carried him back inside, starting the fire. He nuzzled in the blanket, warming himself by the mantel. The grandfather clock ticked, Dean snored and he could faintly hear Sam's quiet sleep talking.

He nearly forgot it was Christmas. The dog jumped into his lap, shivering. "What is it?" He asked the dog curiously, tilting his head. The dog just nuzzled into his sweater, falling asleep.

After a couple minutes of cuddling with the dog, he let out a long sigh, beginning to become impatient. He sat the dog on the ground and crawled over to Dean's side, shaking him lightly. Dean let out a moan, flipping over and nearly slapping Cas in the face. He shook him vigorously, whispering "Dean" multiple times, and finally, his eyes shot open.

"Mmm?" He murmured, squinting his emerald eyes with sleep.

"Merry Christmas!" He exclaimed, louder than he intended, but he didn't exactly care. How could Dean be sleeping right now?

"Merry Christmas..." He muttered, letting out a tired yawn. "Is this why you woke me up? To say 'Merry Christmas'?"

"No... Well, yeah. I just wanted you up, 'cause I was growing restless." He told him, offering a smile. He smiled back, starting to shut his eyes, but Cas shook him again until he awoke once again.

"Can't you just let me sleep...?" He groaned, stroking Cas' black hair. A shiver ran down his spine, making Dean grin sleepily.

"No. You are going to wake your brother, and i'm going to make breakfast." Cas said, receiving a raised eyebrow and wolfish grin from the eldest Winchester.

"Demanding, eh?" He laughed a bit, fully awake now.

"Do you not like it?" Cas asked, tilting his head. Perhaps he didn't like this side of him, but they had been together for over two years...

"It turns me on," he whispered into his ear, Cas' face turning crimson.

"Oh just wake your brother up, already," he shoved Dean a bit, laughing with embarrassment and stood up, quickly walking into the kitchen. Yes, they had been together for almost three years, but this behaviour still made him nervous.

Dean threw his head back with laughter, unable to contain himself. After a couple moments and he heard the burner switch on, he hoisted himself up and banged on Sam's door.

"Wake up, Sammy!" He called, and heard Sam groan and stand up. After a few seconds, the door opened to reveal an angry--almost Devil-ish--Sam.

"What do you want?" He moaned, pawing the sleep from his eyes.

"Merry Christmas, you moose," was all Dean said as he sat himself at the dinner table, switching on the light.

He heard Sam murmur 'Merry Christmas', then found him across the table, resting his head on the table. It was as if he only got an hour sleep!

Cas returned with three plates at hand, placing them in front of each boy. Dean mumbled his thanks, the smell of pancakes and bacon illuminating the flat. He groaned with satisfaction at the flavour, the butter and syrup melting on his tongue. The bacon was burnt a bit, but he didn't mind, and it still tasted amazing!

Cas watched Dean eat like a wolf, devouring it in seconds. He nearly dropped the fork in his hand, but continued to eat. Sam cringed at the sight of Dean, and said, "you eat like a pig."

"I am eating pig, you spoon," Dean placed his fork on the table, his face turning pink, despite his confidence.

"No shit, Sherlock," Sam laughed, taking another bite of his breakfast.

"Oh leave me be." Dean rolled his eyes, taking his last bite of the pancakes, eating it slowly, for he had eaten it far too quickly.

Cas watched with amusement as the Winchester's argued. The meal followed with peaceful silence, and he could here the whistle of wind and few cars honking. As he looked through the window, snow drifted past at a quick pace, and christmas lights glinted with various colours. He smiled joyfully, and as they finished, Dean insisted that he would do the dishes. He hadn't expected him to do so, because he always fought about it. But he always lost 'rock, paper, sizzors', didn't he? So he probably just realized that there'd be no point in fighting? Cas shrugged it off, knowing he was thinking tok hard about a pointless--yet grateful--situation.

When Dean started the dishes, Sam disappeared into the living room and Christmas music began to vibrate loudly through the house. Cas shook his head, laughing under his breath. He didn't take Sam to be one to love Christmas music, despite the fact that he'd known him for a year. Last Christmas, they hadn't celebrated, for Bobby had passed away.

Cas stepped into the kitchen, and said, "I'll dry, if you'd like?"

Dean looked at him gratefully. "Thank you," Cas nodded and began to dry them, putting them in their rightful places. "There's a concert next weekend." Dean told him.

"Really? Who's playing?" He asked excitedly. He definitely would love to go to one. The music always calmed him... Showing that life was good in some ways. Yes, having a wonderful boyfriend and friends and celebrating holidays always brought his spirits up... But music spoke to him.

"The Weeknd, I believe?" Dean told him, setting another dish on the drying rack. Instantly Cas picked it up and dried it.

Cas loved that band, not just because of their music--well, the beat, he supposed. He loved the meanings to each song, and the lyrics always overjoyed him. The only parties he had went to played those songs, and he had met Dean as it boomed throughout the house. Cas smiled at the memories, and he had completely forgot that that was the night he had lost a friend, too.

"I would love to see them." He told Dean, casting him a smile.

"I know," he purred, "that's why I'm bringing you." Cas beamed and hugged the Winchester for a long moment. Sam walked in, bursting out in laughter as he watched the two.

"Aw, Cassie and Dean-o are sharing another moment!" He exclaimed. Cas threw the tea-towel at Sam, laughing with embarrassment. Dean pulled away, rolling his eyes. Sam always reacted this way.

"You're so immature." Cas said as Sam threw it back, hitting him in the face. For some reason, it hurt more than he thought it would. Cas cringed and rubbed his face, but only received more laughs.

"Oh go away, Sam!" Dean began to push his brother away, Sam swatting at him.

"I can leave on my own, thank you very much," he said stubbornly, then slammed the bedroom door behind him.

Cas rolled his eyes and started to dry the dishes once again, his face still warm. Dean came from behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, planting a soft kiss on his neck. Cas shivered, leaning back into him, his blue eyes glinting as he looked into Dean's.

"What would I do without you?" Dean questioned, brushing his lips on Cas' neck. His legs felt weak, nearly buckling beneath him, but Dean held him firmly.

"I don't know," he replied, tilting his head to the side and letting out a pleasurable sigh. The mix of electricity and heat filled him, almost too overwhelming. Dean bit his ear, and he let out a gasp, his ear pounding with a shocking pain. For some reason, he enjoyed it.... Craved it.

"Sorry," he murmured into his ear, his breath warm on his neck. His body shook, and he was done with this teasing. Cas shifted his body around, pinning Dean against the fridge. Dean let out a surprised gasp, and Cas fiddled with Dean's green flannel.

"Don't ever be sorry." He looked up at him, his eyes glinting with hunger. Dean grinned widely, tugging at Cas' tie to bring them closer, until their was no room possible between them. Their lips connected, tongues slicking against each other. Cas pressed his hands into Dean's shoulders, trying to bring him closer, and closer, and closer.

Dean flipped him around, caging Cas into the fridge. The surface with cold, bitting at his flesh. But he didn't care, because all he wanted was this man. Their lips hovered, their breath warming the air. Dean grinned wolfishly, slowly pulling Cas' sweater over his body, the cold instantly brushing against his back. He shivered, feeling as if he may fall as Dean dragged a hand down his chest, electrifying sensations making him bite his lip.

When this insatiable desire was too hard to contain, he ripped off Dean's shirt, hearing the buttons pop one by one as each were disconnected. Dean's eyes glinted with amusement, pressing his lips against Cas'. His lips parted, tongues tangling. When he knew he'd fall from this overwhelming pleasure, an arm hooked around his knees, quickly being lifted off the ground.

Dean plopped him onto their bed, caging him beneath him. Dean's lips brushed against his jawline, his stomach fluttering. They moved down, brushing against his neck to his waist. Cas let out a moan, dragging his hands down Dean's sides, bringing a finger up his spine. Dean instantly arched his back, letting out a gasp.

But just as their hands moved to the belts, he heard an uneasy laugh from outside the room. Shit. Cas tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out if Sam was listening, but Dean distracted him. He continued to pepper his flesh with kisses, his body shocking with electricity.

"I can hear you guys perfectly," Sam moaned outside, and Cas practically could see the cringe on his face.

"Go away!" Dean called, plopping beside Cas. Thanks to Sam, they had stopped. Cas frowned, but he heard Sam's footsteps fade away. He obviously wasn't too far away, though, for he wouldn't leave the apartment.

Dean let out a sigh and stared at Cas, grinning. Cas snorted, then walked out of the room, throwing on his shirt.

"I thought you'd never finish!" Sam exclaimed, looking more amused than disgusted.

"Oh shut up," he heard Dean from behind him, who was buttoning up his flannel.

Sam rolled his eyes, then threw himself beside the Christmas tree. The lights flickered, illuminating Sam with its colour. The pine needles were a dull green, but it was still beautiful. How could everything just exist? How was everything just... There?

"Present time, already?" Dean asked, leaning against the wall and staring at his younger brother.

"Why not?" Sam shrugged, sorting the presents in three categories. He pushed one in front of Cas as he sat down, staring at the gifts. Dean sighed and sat beside them, holding Cas close.

"You go first, Cas!" Dean said with a grin, but he shook his head.

"No. How about Sam? He seems more excited than ever." He pointed at Sam, who was nearly dying from excitement. They were just gifts, but then again, he was only sixteen.

Without another word, Sam tore open the biggest box out of the five, frowning as he found a... Guitar?

"Wow, thanks! Never thought I'd own a mini guitar!" He thanked Cas, for he had been the one to get him the instrument.

"It's a ukulele," he corrected the boy. Sam only rolled his eyes, them pointed to a present before him.

"Your turn," he instructed. Cas was about to protest, but Dean forced it into his hands, telling him to open it. Jesper whined from behind him, and he took it as 'open up the damn present, or i'll rip it open for ya.'

"Fine," he muttered, opening up the medium sized package. The wrapping was beautiful, glinting a red and silver under the lights. As he began to open up the package, Dean held him closer, hearing him contain a chuckle. He rolled his eyes, opening it, but as he did so, something jumped at him, nearly hitting him in the eye. He let out a yelp, falling back and covering his face.

"What the hell was that!" He demanded, his voice shaky from the surprise. Sam and Dean burst out laughing, hitting each other on the backs.

"Damn, that was amazing!" Sam explained.

"Oh my god, you should have seen the look on your face..." Dean's voice trailed off as Cas gave him a death glare, chucking the box at him.

"You scared that shit out of me!" He snarled.

"You didn't actually, did you?" Sam questioned, cringing.

"No! And I don't appreciate these scares on this night." He frowned, crossing his arms.

"Oh lighten up, Cas. It was just a prank."

"A pretty bad one," he muttered, then took the box back, looking inside to see what was in there. A jack-in-a-box... But when he took it out, something dropped from it. He picked up the small, pocket sized box, his eyes widening. What was this? He couldn't possibly be... He opened it and sighed with relief as it was only a silver chain, no ring attached.

"Do you like it?" Dean asked nervously, and Cas nodded slowly with a smile. It glinted brightly, and he thought it to be beautiful and kind. He took it from the small box, holding it put to Dean.

"Help?" He asked, ignoring the snickers from Sam. Dean nodded, slowly latching the ends together around his neck. It was heavier than he thought, but it was perfect.

"Thank you," Cas murmured, hugging the eldest Winchester, and pointed to a box. "Your turn, now." Dean grinned and opened up the gold wrapping.

He wished he had gotten him something better, but Dean gasped as he found a watch. "I needed one!"

He smiled. He had specifically gotten it because Dean never knew the time, and it brought back memories to the night they met. "Thank you," Dean said, holding Castiel close.

"You guys are very touchy." Sam cringed, only to receive a ball of wrapping paper in his face.

"Wait until you find the one of your dreams. You won't be talking then," Cas chuckled, and Sam stuck his tongue out, leaning back into the couch.

The snow drifted past the window, frosting it over. His heart lifted at the sight, admiring the beautiful, cold fluff. Cas quickly shrugged on his house coat, snuggling into it. They continued to open up their gifts, the sound of rustling and the crackle of fire fading into the afternoon. It had taken longer than they thought, but time went by quickly, their laughs echoing throughout the apartment.

It was a beautiful night, and he never wanted it to end.


	6. Six; Music and Promises

"Even when you told me it was alright,

I could see through it all,

Because in your eyes,

You were afraid of losing me."

 

 

Music exploded from the stage, and neon lights illuminated the crowd. Hands raised, Cas beamed as he watched the Weeknd playing, singing a beautiful melody. Dean, who looked amused as he watched the angelic man, leaned against the wall, the lights turning is skin a purple and red hue. Cas wasn't sure if Dean liked this music, but he didn't care that much, did he?

The music vibrated through his bones, continuously repeating the words: I can't feel my face when i'm with you. It was a strange, but beautiful song. White lights exploded from the stage, the crowd letting out a thunderous squeal as the song ended, the flow of bodies slowly dying to an easy current. They swayed slowly as a slower song began, leaving Cas clueless to what this song may be. It was absolutely beautiful, and the lead singer's voice was slow and sad. It was a bit overwhelming, because for the past hour, the music has been quick and loud, byt this... Cas sniffled as he felt the tears come. Why was he so emotional?

As the current of people swayed, the bear began to pick up once again, allowing the crowd to gradually grow faster. He wiped away his tears, making sure Dean hadn't noticed, for he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it. As the lead singer's voice boomed, growing angry, Cas nearly flinched, the words echoing through his mind. What had happened to make him so angry? To sing such words?

He flinched as arms wrapped around his waist, breath heating his neck. Cas relaxed, leaning into Dean's chest. "You enjoying yourself?" He whispered, his breath sending a shiver down his spine. He melted into his touch, the music fading.

"Definitely. Thank you so much for this," Cas said, turning around to meet Dean's eyes.

"It was my pleasure!" Dean exclaimed, almost beating the sound of the deafening music.

Cas smiled, brushing his lips gently on Dean's, stroking a hand through his sandy brown hair. Dean grinned, pulling away. "You're going to miss the music."

"I'd rather be with you," Cas whispered, Dean's heart aching. He took Cas' cheeks with both hands, pressing their lips together. It wasn't fierce, nor was it hungry. It was nearly sad and needy... As if Dean needed him more than anything; as if his five words pulled out a sword that was stabbed there for a long, long time.

"I could never let you go." Dean said between their lips. Cas could feel his tears on his skin... The joy--or was it sadness?--of them burned his flesh.

"Then don't," Cas replied, pulling away and looking into the eyes of a different world. So beautiful, and he could see the anger that had been there for so long disappear. It was replaced with only joy--only hope.

"I won't," Dean held him close, the blue and white lights illuminating his skin. Cas nuzzled into his jacket, the smell of mint and leather filling his lungs. The music was muffled, and he could only hear Dean's breathing. He didn't want this to end. He didn't want Dean to leave--to ever walk away and not return. What would he do with himself if he did? 

He didn't have to worry about anything, for he knew Dean could never let him go. He trusted him, and he loved him. And that was enough. Only he was enough, and he didn't need to be afraid.

After what felt like little time, the music stopped and the band said their farewell, leaving the stage. Cas pressed his head against Dean, then slowly looked up to him, his blue eyes shining.

"How was it?" Cas asked him, tilting his head. Dean looked confused, unsure of what he meant, but he soon understood. He let out a laugh and said:

"I think I dig the Weeknd," he replied, casting him a wolfish grin.

"You think?" Cas scoffed, shaking his head. "I assure you, you absolutely dig the Weeknd!"

Dean shook his head lightly, biting his lip. "Fine, I 'dig' the Weeknd," Cas gave him a pout. "Alright! I will learn to like the band. I just prefer classic rock."

"You're boring," Cas shoved him lightly, only to receive a laugh. He forgot about the people shoving past them, trying to escape out of the concert and into the frigid air.

"Oh please, you know i'm the most exciting man in the world!" 

"You wish," Cas grinned and pushed past him, exiting the warm building and into the night full of stars and snow.

Dean raced after him and said, "last one to the impala must do the dishes for a week!"

"Oh don't you dare!" Cas screeched, his breath fogging the air before him, but he only ignored him. Dean ran past him, and Cas knew he must beat this race. 

His steps crunched beneath the snow, nearly slipping on the hard ice-like floor, but regained himself. The air bit at his flesh, despite his trench. He watched Dean run and run and run, passing various different vehicles. Cas huffed as he couldn't catch up, but he still chased after him. The impala was still a hundred feet away, but Dean was closer, and he soon reached it, running into the trunk of the chevy impala.

"You lose," Dean breathed, putting a hand o his chest. Cas rolled his eyes, his breath caught as he reached it.

"You got a head start," he shot back, not entirely pleased that he lost. 

"Oh brighten up, Cas. It was just a race, and I'm sure Sam will help you with the dishes." He snorted.

"I doubt Sam would do so," Cas shrugged then got into the midnight black vehicle. It was freezing inside, and the leather seat bit at his ass.

Dean got in, grinning at Castiel, then started the vehicle. It purred into the night, the cars and people disappearing behind them as the car drove away. He was very grateful that Dean had brought him to this concert. It was one of the best nights of his life. He couldn't get the songs out of his head, and he hummed them the whole drive back.

He noticed Dean tapping the wheel, and he couldn't help but smile. "You can't hide the fact that you liked the music."

"Oh shut up," Dean laughed, pulling into the parking lot of their building. Only a few cara were parked, and it was too dark to see. He frowned and got out of the impala, clutching his jacket close as he walked down the parking lot. Dean followed, standing close, as they walked into the ever-so-warm building. It was deliciously hot, but his limbs still shook as he was warming up.

They reached their flat and walked in, Cas immediately plopping onto their bed. He didn't bother to change, and fatigue took over, finding himself drift into a soundly sleep. Dean rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket around him and slipped in the warm covers, clutching Cas close to him.

As Cas woke up the next morning, his phone began to buzz, echoing through the room like thunder. Cas moaned, rubbing his eyes and picked it up. He read 'Blocked' and furrowed his brows, answering it and said:

"Hello?" He yawned, running a hand through his black hair.

"Cassie?" The other line said, and he instantly recognized the voice of Gabriel. His heart dropped, his throat became dry... Why was he calling?

"Gabe?" His voice sounded weak and small.

"I am so, so sorry! I know it's been two years, and the last time we talked, Michael had rejected you--"

"No, just stop talking." He breathed, needing to think. That night came back like a rushing dam, drowning him with cold, furious water. "Why are you calling?"

"Because you're my brother, and I needed to tell you how much of a jerk I was..." Was he telling the truth? He couldn't tell and only if they were speaking in person... No. He wouldn't be able to handle that. He looked to his side, finding that Dean wasn't there. His heart dropped further, but he knew he must have gone to school. Jesper wasn't in the room, but he didn't want to get out of bed. Sam was sleeping... He felt utterly alone.

"Yeah, you were. How could you let Michael do that to me? How could you just stand there and watch him kick me out? How--"

"I know!" Gabe exclaimed, his voice breaking into a sob. "I am sorry, Cassie. I shouldn't have done what I did, and Michael knows it, too. We were assholes and we have thought everything through. We want to see you, brother. We need to fix things."

"You really think it would be that easy?" Cas laughed bitterly. "It isn't. You and Michael broke me and said you won't allow faggots in your home. You couldn't accept who I was, and now I truly know how you feel. How could you call me after two years and think everywhere was sunshine and okay?"

"I know, Cassie. Believe me, I know. I wish we hadn't said what we did, but I we cannot fix it. If you could just let us--"

"No. Don't ever call this number again," and with that, he cut the line, throwing the phone across the room. He heard a crash, knowing it was broken. But he didn't give a damn. It was just as broken as he was after that fucking call. Why did he call? Why did it take so long to realize how wrong they were? He shook his head vigorously, pulling at his black hair.

Why?

It was hard to breathe, and he had to get out. He quickly got out of the bed, not bothering to change out of the clothes he slept in. He put on Jesper's leash and dragged him downstairs, fighting the tears in his eyes. 

He was drowning, and no one was there to save him. 

He sat himself on a frosted bench, Jesper pulling on the leash, begging to go further. People walked past, the snow crunching beneath their feet. Snow drifted by slowly, and he just stared at it, condemning the white fluff with his angry eyes.

The music from the night before was stuck in his mind, but his angry thoughts overpowered it. We will not raise faggots in our home. His body shook, tears forced themselves down his cheeks, freezing to ice as the frigid air took over. 

He sat there for hours, watching the busy street before him, Jesper lying on his lap, waiting patiently. He did calm himself down, but the one question remained in his mind: why? Why did his brothers call after two years? Why did they even care?

Why did he care?

He let out a long sigh, standing up and held Jesper in his arms. He was freezing. His heart ached more and brought him back inside, lighting the fireplace and sat before it. The light flickered, beaming on his face. Tears streamed down his face, glittering like stars and fire.

A door slowly creaked open, and footsteps sounded behind him. "Cas?" A tired voice yawned.

Cas turned around, finding Sam rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Yes?" He asked.

"Are you alright?" Sam sat beside him, looking at him intently. 

"Yeah..." His voice trailed off, knowing that Sam could detect the lie. Sam frowned and shook his head.

"No you aren't," he said, "talk." He ordered.

Cas let out a long, long sigh. "My brother, Gabriel, called me," he told Sam the story, which he hadn't spoken to him about yet. Sam nodded the whole way through, giving a sympathetic look. "And that's why I cannot forgive them."

"I understand why you wouldn't want to talk to them... But what if you should speak to them? Hear them out?" 

Cas frowned, boring his eyes on the fire, stroking the dog's golden fur. "Maybe. But I am not ready, despite the fact I've had a couple years to heal. But for some reason, I can't, and I fear that seeing their faces would break me."

Sam nodded slowly. "If you need to talk to anyone, I'm here, okay?"

Cas nodded, giving a thankful smile. He didn't reply, and Sam took his leave, returning to his room. Cas leaned into the couch, digging his feet into the rug. Maybe he should hear them out, but he'd need time. More time than he already had. And did his brothers even deserve forgiveness? 

He shrugged off these thoughts, dazing at the bright fire and listening to the crackle and whistle of fire and wind. Beautiful sounds, yet they were both dangerous in their own way. The dog began to snore, and Cas held the dog closer, planting a kiss on the fur covered forehead.

After another hour, the front door let out a whine, and Dean walked in. Cas was snuggled in a blanket in front of the fire, dazed in his own thoughts. Dean smiled and set his bag down, sitting beside him. The dog let out a yawn and began to walk away, swaying as it did. Dean watched the angelic man, whom didn't seem to notice his return. Dean frowned and leaned into the couch, deciding not to say anything. He must be in a bad mood--possibly his man period.

But when the silence lingered there for a couple for minutes, Dean's patience wavered. "Cas?" He asked, making Cas flinch at the sudden breakthrough from the silence. Cas blinked at him for a moment, his eyes lined with silver. "What happened?"

Sam had only just asked the question an hour ago. "My brothers..." He whispered.

"What did they say?" Dean demanded, his voice deadly. God, he hated Gabriel and Michael, even when he hadn't met the two. Cas had nearly forgotten that.

"Just that they were sorry and that they wanted to talk," he said, blinking away his tears. He needed to be strong.

"And? Did they say anything else?" Dean pressed, ire dulling his eyes. Cas let out a long sigh, looking away for a moment. 

"No. They just said they were wrong, and that they really wanted to talk. I don't know if I should believe them, though. They have always been deceivers and tricksters, never giving a damn about my feelings. Maybe they are sorry, but I can't bring myself to talk to them."

Dean nodded, holding Cas close. He melted into his body, becoming one. Dean didn't say anything else, but he knew this meant that he was there for him... That he would never let him go. He breathed in his scent, the smell comforting him. He wouldn't talk to his brothers. He could never face them again. Gabriel was known for tricking people--making them believe that he was... different. And Michael... He was just a dick. 

Dean held him for a while, the fire soon burning out, and they were left in the darkness of day. Sam didn't leave his room, for he knew Cas and Dean needed their alone time. Dean rubbed his back gently, whispering that everything would be okay. Cas needed that, and he couldn't bring himself to let go.

He could hear a storm picking up, and the wind became angry whistles. He heard a car honk outside angrily, as well as an angry shout. People were so angry, despite the beautiful time of year. Perhaps the cold made everyone bitter--or that everyone despised the weather.

"What would you do if I upset you, Dean?" Cas murmured, pain itching at his throat.

Dean held him closer, letting out a low "shhh..." He stroked his black hair, his fingers getting knitted with it. "I would forgive you."

"Then isn't that what I should do for my brothers? Forgive them?" Cas asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. If Dean would forgive him, then he should forgive his family. Shouldn't he?

"Perhaps. I would always forgive you, even if you hurt me in the worst ways possible," was all Dean said, his breath warming his neck. Maybe Dean was right; he should forgive them, despite the fact that they hurt him in a way that most could never forgive.

Cas didn't say anything else. What was there to say? He inhaled a shaky breath and pressed himself closer to Dean, his flannel warming his cheeks. He listened to the clock... tick, tick, tick... And he could have sworn it told him to run and never look back. To never see your brothers again. But that was foolish and idiotic. He couldn't just run, and he could never hide forever. He needed to see his brothers, and he had to learn to forgive them. They had realized they were wrong, and isn't that what mattered?

I would always forgive you, even if you hurt me in the worst ways possible. Dean was right, and there was no way of denying it. He lifted his head to meet Dean's gaze, smiling a bit. "I am going to speak to them tomorrow."

"You are?" He sounded surprised, and he hinted the ire in his eyes.

"It's alright," he reassured Dean, "if anything goes wrong, i'll just leave and call you... Or you could come with me?" He added, trying to read what he was thinking. Dean bit his lip, contemplating on whether that was a good idea. But what if it was, and meeting them could prove that being gay wasn't a sin? 

"I would love to meet your brothers, as long as they don't spit in my face." Dean said, making sure it didn't sound bitter and rude. 

Cas nodded, his eyes glinting with joy. At least he was happy now. "I, ugh, broke my phone. I'm going to need to use yours..." His face head at that, remembering how he chucked it across the room.

"Um, sure," Dean laughed a bit, then passed him the samsung. "Here."

"Thanks," he took the phone and typed in the number, his foot tapping against the couch. After four rings, he thought Gabe wouldn't pick up... That this was entirely a mistake, but then it picked up, the other line saying a muffled 'hello?' "Gabriel?"

The other line was quiet for a moment. "Cas?" He sounded most definitely shocked. "I thought you'd never call back... Did you change your number? Sorry, that doesn't matter..."

"When would you like to talk?" Cas asked, getting straight to the point. He wanted this conversation over quickly, before he would decide against it.

"Talk?" Gabe asked, and he could see his shocked expression. "Could you do 10:30 tomorrow, at the coffee shop?" Cas contemplated, looking at Dean at what he thought. He only shrugged, leaving Cas to be the one who chose. He rolled his eyes, giving him a sarcastic 'thanks' look.

"Sure. I'll see you then," and with that, he hung up, not waiting for Gabe's reply. He let out a long breath, pressing his head against Dean's chest. It was harder than he thought, talking to his brother. But at least it was over, and Dean would be with him tomorrow and help him face his brothers.

"Promise you'll help me get through this tomorrow." Cas said into his shirt, gradually looking into Dean's emerald eyes. Dean gave him a soft smile, ruffling his raven black hair.

"Promise."


	7. Seven; The Past and Kisses

"You held my hand in my darkest times,

And you told me,

I will never let you go."

 

 

The snow whirled against the wind shield, blocking out most of their vision as they drove towards the cafe. Dean cursed under his breath as they were practically blind. Cas looked through the window, seeing nothing but a white snow storm. The most perfect day to talk to my brothers, Cas thought to himself, frowning. He could hear the snow whistle angrily, and it made him fidget uneasily. He didn't particularly enjoy snow storms, for they were bitter and cold. Yes, he liked the winter... but once a storm was involved, he always got nervous.

The purring of the engine came to a stop, and before them stood the cafe. Cas gulped at the sight, receiving a reassuring squeeze from Dean. There were so many possibilities--so many ways--that everything could go to Hell. One: Michael will flip at the sight of Dean. Two: Someone will get angry, and a storm, itself, could crash the building. 

"You sure you want to do this?" Dean inquired, eying Cas. He shrugged, unsure of his answer. No, because he hadn't seen his brothers for so long, and they didn't know much about him, as well they didn't accept a single thing about him. Yes, because he rehearsed the whole situation, debating on any scenario that could happen.

He slowly nodded, taking in the cafe where his brothers awaited. Was he ready? Could he possibly do this? "Yes," he replied, boring his eyes into the ever so green of Dean's. 

"Lets get this over with, then!" Dean exclaimed, jumping out of the chevy impala. Cas followed after the Winchester, clutching the trench close, the icy snow biting at his flesh. Dean noticed the gesture, holding Cas close while they walked in. The warmth was a relief, but it didn't help with his anxiety.

It was a 70's style diner, with black and white checkered floors and red booths. It was classical, and he liked it. As Cas scanned the area, someone called his name, the voice so familiar. Cas whirled around, his eyes widening at the sight. Michael and Gabriel... They were actually here, and... They looked happy! They both had warm smiles playing at their lips, their eyes glinting with joy. He had never seen these expressions on their faces. Not once.

"Cassie!" Gabriel called, standing up from where he was, holding his arms out for an embrace. But he didn't take the gesture. He didn't, particularly, want to share affection to the ones that rejected him. Gabriel's eyes glinted with hurt, but he sat down, not questioning his move.

Michael eyed him for a moment, a smile still on his lips. Then his eyes flicked beside him, where Dean stood. There, just for a moment, disgust dulled his eyes. He fought his frown, but he could feel the anger boil his veins. "How have you been, Castiel?" His brother asked, gesturing them to sit. They took the offer, sitting on the other side of the red booth.

"I've been better," Cas replied dully. Dean squeezed his hand beneath the table, just for comfort. 

Michael nodded slowly, still trying to hold his smile. Of course, it was fake. No one could possibly smile this long--well, at least not these two. "This is Gabriel, and I'm Michael. You must be... Dean?" The older brother eyes the Winchester for a long moment, almost like a wolf stalking their prey.

"Yeah. Dean Winchester," the Winchester replied, his voice neutral.

Gabriel nodded, then turned back to Cas. "I wish I could change what had--"

Cas held a hand up, shaking his head. "What's done is done. And believe me, I'm over that now."

They both let out a sigh of relief, eying their younger brother. "So... Anything new? Work, school?" Small talk. Great.

Cas contemplated on his answer, looking at Dean for a moment, then back to Michael. "Well, actually, I got into Standford University to become a doctor." He beamed at the memory. He honestly didn't believe he'd get in... But in highschool, he guessed he got really good grades. 

"Good job, little brother!" Gabriel exclaimed, flashing them his ever so white teeth. "And what about you, Dean?" He stared at the Winchester with warmth, but he could see the challenge hidden beneath the stare. What were their problems?

"I am currently in college for law enforcement." Dean replied smoothly. Michael and Gabe nodded in sync, contemplating on what they should ask next. 

"Any new girlfriends?" Michael asked, giving them a sweet smile. A muscle feathered in Cas' jaw. Oh, that question was deliberate. He couldn't possibly forget his sexuality, and that he and Dean were together.

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but Dean cut him off. "No, in fact, because I have been fucking your brother." Their eyes widened, and he could see disgust plastered on Michael's face. He couldn't read Gabriel's, for he could always hid his emotions well. "Now we will take our leave, because I do not like your attitude and judgemental gaze. I honestly don't understand why you two are so rude, and why you can't accept Cas." And with that, Dean dragged him outside, practically throwing him into the impala. He didn't question his actions, for he already knew why he was acting so pissed.

He saw Gabriel run out of the cafe, pleading for them to come back, but they drove off, the constant purr of the engine following after them. He let out a long sigh, his breath fogging the window as he looked through it. His heart ached at the fact that his brothers lied, and all they did was judge. He was glad Dean stood up for him--the both of them--but not so thrilled at what he said... 

As they zoomed past the afternoon, they finally reached their apartment. He stared at the grey stoned building for a long moment, taking in the fine features. New windows, a huge glass front door, not a single weed crawling its way up the building... It was so familiar, but because his mind felt lost... It seemed different. It was as if there were a gloom upon the world--his world.

When they entered their flat, he was unable to contain his tears. His breaths came out uneven, and his throat burned as if it were on fire. He quickly moved into the bedroom, locking the door behind him, and threw himself on the bed. It was a struggle to breathe, and his tears streamed down his face like a bucket spilling water. 

He felt utterly broken.

He could feel himself empty into an abyss of nothingness... And nothing could save him. He was drowning and he needed to be lifted from perdition--

"Cas?" Dean's voice cut his thoughts away. Though Castiel didn't answer, for his words could only come out in sobs. He didn't want to be talked to. He just needed to be alone. "Come on, Cas. Lets talk about this. I know your brothers are a bunch of douche bags, and they can really get to people... But I think you should talk this out." Cas shook his head, burrowing his face into the cloud-like pillow.

"Cas, please," Dean pleaded through the door. Castiel flipped over on the bed, looking up to the white ceiling. He honestly didn't want to speak, but he knew Dean would bug him until life's end.

"Go away." He simply called, his voice hoarse.

"You know I won't. C'mon, lets talk about it!" He swore he heard Sam's voice through the door, but he wasn't sure. He rubbed his eyes, cleaning the salty tears from his cheeks.

"Then will you leave me alone?" Cas murmured, sitting up and locking his eyes on the door. He could have sworn he saw the faint image of Dean nodding his head, and with that, he walked towards the door, unlocking it. The door instantly opened, revealing Dean. Cas let him in, and shut the door behind them. 

Dean sat himself on the bed, more so jumping on it, and stared up to him. "So... Are you alright?" Really? He was going to ask that question when the answer was written all over his face?

Cas shrugged, sitting beside the Winchester. "Not entirely," he began truthfully, "I just don't understand why they do it. Why they deceit me all the time, and make me believe that they accept who I am... But they will only lecture and judge."

Dean nodded. "You cannot rely on everyone. People believe separate things, and you can't expect them to support and agree. Everyone is different, and everyone are jerks in their own way."

"I suppose... But they're my brothers. Wouldn't you expect Sam to accept who you are?" Castiel stared at him, his blue eyes glinting his sadness. Why did he have a brother who cared so much, while he had horrible siblings? 

"I don't know..." He admitted. "He's always accepted me, and we've always relied on each other."

"So you would," Cas said flatly, "and you have never experienced being called a faggot. You never experienced being rejected, yelled at, and taunted." 

Dean shook his head, looking away. "I have many times. My father, John, was a very strict man. He trained me in many things, and if I did something wrong... He'd abuse me verbally--sometimes physically--and it hardened me."

Cas was unaware of all of this. Why hadn't he told him sooner? "And you're... okay?"

Dean shrugged, casting him a wink. "Of course! That was years ago, and ever since I met you, that dark side faded away into nothing." That made his cheeks warm. He never really thought himself to be a good presence... But Dean thought otherwise. And wouldn't that be why Dean stayed with him for so long? Because he had taken the darkness away?

After a moment, Dean said, "no matter what, Cas, I will always be there. Even in your dark times, I will hold your hand; I will never, ever let you go. Don't let your brothers get to you, for they know nothing of love." 

Cas stared at him for a long moment, his heart wrenching, his heart beating like hummingbird's wings. Then he threw his arms around the Winchester, burrowing his head in Dean's chest. "Thank you," he whispered. 

"I love you," Dean murmured, his breath hot on his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

"I love you, too." 

He stayed there in his arms for a while, savouring his warmth, and knowing that he'd always be safe--always be okay--when he was with Dean. He had always told himself that he didn't need protection... But today proved otherwise. He needed this Winchester no matter what, even if he tried to tell himself that he didn't. Dean had showed him something greater--something better--in life. And he knew he did the same for him. Maybe that's why he fell in love with this man. Because they could protect each other in their own ways... They can show them the light, and lead them out of perdition. 

They didn't know how long they stayed there in each other's arms. But one thing they knew was that it felt right. It was a beautiful and amazing moment. They sat there in silence, listening to the snow storm outside, and the crackle of fire outside the room. He knew Dean's promise had been true. He couldn't get those six words out of his head... For some reason, they felt stronger than 'I love you'. It was stronger than those three words. It showed him that Dean would forever be there, and that through hard times, those six words would bind them together. 

"I will never let you go," Cas whispered, breaking the silence. He knew he had to say that promise back... He felt the need to.

"I know," Dean whispered into his ear, biting his lobe. An electrifying sensation snaked down his spine, and he shoved Dean playfully for doing so. Dean grinned, then planted a kiss atop his forehead. "Don't ever leave."

"Oh, believe me, I won't."

~

There was a knock at the door. No one ever came often. Castiel frowned slightly, standing up from his spot on the couch, ignoring the yapping from Jesper. Slowly moving to the door, he had finally opened it to find a young woman about his age, and her brunette hair glistened under the sparse light. Hannah.

"Hannah?" Castiel breathed, not opening the door wide enough for her to enter. Why was she here? How did she know where he lived? The last time he had seen her when... she had kissed him.

"Ca-Cas..." Sh stuttered, a smile of embarrassment spreading across her lips. "It's good--"

"Why are you here?" He interrupted her, showing no emotion but surprise.

"I... I wanted to see you," she whispered, looking down.

"After years?" Cas questioned her, furrowing his brows. "Why now?"

"I don't know," she replied weakly. "I was just thinking back to high school and remembered you. Back then, I didn't know what I was thinking."

"I know..."

"No you don't!" She yelled out of the blue, causing Cas to jump back a step with wide eyes. "You don't know! I love you, Cas! I did. I was just too afraid for you to reject me--and you did, anyway. I wanted you, and I didn't know why I let you run away--I shouldn't have run away. You were my best friend, I know that... But feelings have a mind of their own, you know? And then, I had no control, and I still don't. I still love you, even after so long of trying not to. I tried to be with other men, but you..."

"Hannah--"

"No," she said quickly with an angered tone, "don't interrupt me. You need to know how I feel." Cas couldn't prevent her from pulling him close and pressing his lips against her own. He didn't know what to do, nor did he know how to even react. Should he be angry, upset? 

She kissed him with more emotion, running her hands through his hair, trying to feel him, know him... He knew what she was doing. And he couldn't stop himself from pushing her away. She slammed into the hallway's wall, and she let out a panicked cry.

"What the hell!" She exclaimed.

"No, what the hell to you!" Cas screamed at her, not caring as a door in the hall opened and a person looked to see what was going on. "I'm not..." He shook his hand, pressing two fingers into the bridge of his nose. "I'm not into... you."

Hannah looked hurt--emotionally and physically. "What is that supposed to mean? That you just never felt anything, even after so many years?" Why didn't she understand?

"Hannah, you don't understand. I'm not into females!" There, he said it. "I love men--I'm freaking gay. I've been with Dean Winchester all the years. And where were you? You ran off and never tried, just like you said. But even if you had, I still wouldn't have loved you in the way you wanted, and I certainly won't now."

Her mouth bobbed slightly, and silver tears lined her eyes. After a couple of moments, he watched her bolt away, a sob of sadness following after her. He wanted to cry himself--but in anger. How could she do this? How could she just show up without any notice and expect him to want her? It was so damn stupid.

~

Dean had come home not too long after, a concerned face plastered over him as he found Castiel crouched in front of the television, looking at nothing. He set his bag down and kneeled in front of him, pressing his lips against his forehead. He flinched away instinctively, shaking his head.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, fear clearly in his tone.

Castiel shrugged, closing his eyes. "Oh nothing..." He murmured.

"Don't give me that bullshit," Dean snarled. "Something happened, and whoever hurt you, I swear I'll beat them." After a moment, he then added, "Was it Michael and Gabriel? Did they hurt you?"

"Not really..." Castiel said, still not looking at him. "They kissed me."

"What!" Dean moved away from him, his hands clenching into bone white fists.

"Don't worry, I pushed them away and probably hurt and scared the crap out of them." No emotion. But for some reason, a laugh escape his lips, but it gradually turned into a sob. He was an idiot. He should have seen this coming! Hannah, of course, came there just to get him "back" even though they were never together.

"Who kissed you?" Dean demanded, his words sounding like a growl.

Castiel looked up and said: "Hannah."

"Hannah?" He repeated. Castiel nodded. "The girl that kissed you at the party a couple years ago?" He nodded again. "Son of a bitch..." He slowly sank down to Cas' level again and rested a hand on his knee.

"I stopped her," Castiel told him, tears running down his cheeks. "I'm sorry..." 

"I know, Cas. But you don't need to be sorry. I still love you," he reassured him.

"Really?" Cas asked. Dean smiled and kissed him tenderly, brushing his cheek softly.

"Always."

Castiel couldn't help but smile.

"But if you ever kiss someone else, I swear I'll start throwing punches." Castiel laughed and shook his head, deepening the kiss.

"I promise," Cas said.


	8. Eight; Car Crashes and Differences

"In my time of dying,

I knew I was flying,

But my true destination was,

The bed where you were lying."

 

 

Things were normal between the two, but Cas was... different. He was more tense and observant; never wanting to open the door unless Dean was there. It was strange really, and Dean just didn't understand where this was coming from. But honestly, he supposed that Cas just didn't want to encounter Hannah again and run into more problems. Dean wouldn't, himself.

But when the phone rang, he knew that everything had changed.

The constant beep, beep, beep that sung from that godforsaken object had changed everything. He didn't know where his Cas had gone after it.

"Dean!" He called from the couch, not wanting to get up. "Can you get the phone?"

"Alright!" Dean called back and went off to pick it up. After a few moments, Dean had come around the corner and handed Cas the phone. "It's for you," was all he said before walking off.

 

October 20, 2021

Dean had gotten his degree in Law Enforcement. He felt like flying, for it had been an amazing day. He honestly didn't think they'd pass him, but they had, and he was officially degreed as an officer. Castiel, the man whom he had fallen in love with, said that there was a surprise awaiting for him. Dean had no clue what it may be, but he knew it had to be special, for Cas was all hush, hush. They hadn't fought much, but after what had happened with Hannah, Dean had become more protective. He knew, however, that Cas was getting annoyed about it. But really, he wasn't going to let another person touch Cas how he touched him. Cas was his, and Dean was Cas'.

Currently, he sat in a police car, impatiently waiting for the speed monitor to catch someone going over a hundred. He had been waiting for about five hours, and yet there was nothing. He was utterly bored, and was desperately in the mood for pie.

He honestly didn't think police work would be so horrid.

After what felt like another hour, the speed monitor in his hand beeped, indicating someone went twenty over. "Finally," he breathed with satisfaction and relief, "someone is making this job interesting." He quickly put the car in drive, then slammed on the gas, quickly catching up with the driver. 

The lights on his car illuminated around the world, turning everything red and blue. It was beautiful, and with the sirens perfectly matching the lights... Speeding to arrest someone--or at least give them a damned ticket--he felt like this was where he belonged. 

But just before he knew it, metal met with metal, and the sound of shattering glass and a booming crash was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.

 

~

 

It was all over the news. A police officer was injured, as well as a civilian, that afternoon. Cas looked at the television screen wide-eyed, his heat pounding, sweat beading his brow. Please don't let it be Dean, he prayed. Lord, I may not know anything about religion... But please, with everything I have and believe in, everything I love and hold dear... Just please don't let this be Dean.

So stupid to believe that God would care for him in particular.

So stupid to believe that God would actually help him, tell him that everything was alright.

Because then, the phone rang, the sound vibrating through his bones. His heart pounded, his arms shaking. No, no, no... This cannot be happening. This must just be a coincidence, right? He stared at the phone for a long, excruciating moments, his thoughts scrambling and turning into tiny particles that didn't exist no longer.

Once, twice... It rang, his vision turning bleary. Three, four, five... He couldn't bring himself to answer it.

Please don't let this be the police department. Please don't tell me that he's dead, or hurt.

Slowly, Castiel gradually made his way towards the phone, daring to answer it. Swiping the screen to answer, instantly he heard the man on the other line speak:

"Is this Castiel Novak?" His voice was calm but restricted, deep and trustworthy, but there was something hidden in there... Sympathy?

"Y-yes," Cas replied hesitantly. "This is Castiel."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Novak, but there had been an accident."

In that moment, his whole world stopped. He didn't even realize the phone had dropped from his hand, cracking as it landed on the solid floor. No. This cannot be happening. Dean couldn't have been the officer who had gotten into the accident. It couldn't have been him. He simply couldn't believe it; he wouldn't for one second.

But why couldn't he breathe? Why couldn't he stop himself from bursting into hyperventilation, and his tears streaming down his cheeks? Denying things couldn't stop the truth, could it? No.

"Mr. Novak?" He heard the phone distantly, the words hardly meeting his ear. "Mr. Novak?" It repeated. He couldn't answer. He couldn't even move, couldn't move a single finger. Then the phone hung up, due to the fact that Cas didn't say a word.

He didn't even get the hospital address. Didn't even get the information if Dean were alive or not.

But he couldn't come to the conclusion that the one he loved was dead. Couldn't even let it slip across his mind again. Dean was gonna be fine, and he was going to see him. Standing up, his legs shaking beneath him, he gradually bursted through the door, jumping into the impala. He had to see him; had to prove that he was alright.

~

He reached the closest hospital, running into the building as if he were a wild animal. But that was how he felt, and he didn't care if someone thought he was crazy. Perhaps he was. He couldn't think straight anymore. Quickly moving towards the secretary, he rung the bell a dozen times impatiently, foot tapping on the white tiles.

A moment later, a female appeared wearing spectacles, her hair in a messy, brown bun, and a close fitted pencil skirt and a blouse. Before she could even say a word, Cas demanded, "where is Dean Winchester?"

The secretary sat down on the leather chair by the desk, looking up at him through her lashes. "Dean Winchester?" She inquired, receiving a curt nod. "He's in the ER. He won't be out for a while. Please have a seat while you wait."

"I need to see him now," he snapped. The secretary flinched, wincing at his harsh tone. He didn't bother to apologize.

"Sir, he won't be out for while," she repeated calmly. "Sit and we will get back to you when he's ready."

Sighing, he sat down in the waiting room, fidgeting and looking up whenever a nurse walked by. None spared him a glance; none took notice of him at all. He felt like a ghost in this small place, unsure of why everyone ignored him.

He felt like a man that was dying on the inside, feeling so weak and broken. Maybe this is how Dean feels... Utterly broken. Shutting his ice blue eyes, he waited and waited and waited. It felt like forever. It Felt like no one cared. 

Patients and nurses walked past, not even sparing him a glance. Dean had to be fine, right? It wasn't like it was a horrible crash--he would wake up soon. But he wished it was at that moment so he could hug the man and tell him that he was sorry for everything--even if there was nothing to be sorry about. He just needed an excuse to talk to him.

He rested his head against the wall, humming Metallica to himself. Dean had told him that it helped him calm down, so he tried it himself. It only reminded him of Dean and made it a thousand times worse. Feeling as if he would from insanity, he stood up and walked up and down the halls, looking into the rooms that contained the patients of various different races and ages. Men in comas; children in casts; women coughing with sickness; women cradling their newborn children. 

Where was Dean? 

He didn't know why he was searching for him, even though the woman had said to wait. She would show him the way, but he was too restless to care. He needed to see him at the moment, he insisted to himself.

Circling around the hallway about a dozen times, he had returned to his seating place from before and noticed the nurse. Before he could say anything, she had rushed up to him with a gleaming face, her eyes full of glee.

"He's awake."


	9. Nine; Darkness and the Lack Of Time

"The darkness awaited for my time,

It asked me if I was ready,

But I told it to wait,

For it wasn't my time."

 

 

He was awake. Cas had never felt so relieved, so anxious to see him alive and healthy. Smiling, he instantly bolted for the room, bursting through the door to see Dean there. But it wasn't the sight he expected. Not the cocky grin, the vibrant glow of his olive skin, the snide remarks he always uttered...

He looked broken, so tired. And he couldn't help but feel the same. Instantaneously, his excitement vanquished into thin air, and he rushed to his side with horrid grace. He kneeled beside the Winchester, placing a hand on Dean's brittle own.

"Cas?" He wheezed, his voice not lively or strong. So strange; so painful.

"Are you alright?" The first question he could think of; the first words he could actually get out.

"Peachy," Dean replied with a sad grin. "I've never felt any better." The sarcasm was dually noted.

Cas couldn't help but laugh softly at his usual behaviour. At least the car accident didn't take everything from him.

"I wouldn't be so excited yet," a voice said from behind him, and he instantly turned around, finding Dean's doctor. His heart slowly sunk to the deepest corridors it could reach. What did he mean that they "shouldn't be so excited yet"?

"Dean, from the cat scan we took, we're unsure if you're going to leave this bed," the doctor told them. Cas flicked his gaze to Dean with wide eyes, and he was just as shocked as him. No, this couldn't be happening. Dean couldn't be... dying. "We're unsure if you should be alarmed, Mr. Winchester, but your heart is suffering from CHD--coronary heart disease. I'm sorry, but we'll do everything we can to help."

"No," Cas snapped, standing up from his spot and ignoring Dean's warning. The doctor yielded a step back. "You cannot be telling us that he's dying." He couldn't stop the tears that welled in his eyes.

"Cas--" Dean began, but he cut him off.

"Dean is going to be fine," he said.

The doctor gave him a pitied look and said, "I'm sorry, but the best we can do is give you medication and pray." Bullshit.

 

Praying didn't resolve anything, and he knew that from experience. Castiel looked at Dean for a moment, then back to the doctor, his gaze hardening. "Why are you telling us this?"

"Because you deserve to know." Without another word, the doctor left the room, leaving the two alone. Cas looked at Dean with a painful look, silver tears lining his eyes.

"Cas, everything will be fine," he wheezed with a reassured tone. A lie.

"I know," Cas whispered, sitting on the edge of Dean's bed. He knew it wouldn't be, but he hoped it would be. 

Dean just stared at him, his eyes blank but desperate. Desperate for him to have faith. But he had nothing left to be faithful for. Dean was dying, and he was his world. Sucking in a breath, he refused to think this way. Dean will be fine, he thought to himself. In a couple weeks, he'll be out of this bed; we'll go home, go through our usual routine and hold each other in our arms. Castiel had to believe this, or so God smite him into oblivion.

"I love you so much," Dean murmured. It was like he was begging him to say it back. Cas stared at the older Winchester with a saddened look, his heart wrenching by an iron grip. "Please don't let this ruin you."

"But it already has," he whispered back, looking away from him.

"Please, Cas. I'm telling you that I'm fine!" He let out a painful gasp, a cry escaping his lips. Cas was instantly at his side, his eyes widening.

"Dean—"

"I'm fine," he choked. "I'm fine." Cas eyed him for a moment longer, stroking his cheek softly. He wanted to believe him. He truly did. But it was so hard...

~

A few hours had passed by, and Castiel laid by Dean's side, afraid that if he left, it would be the last he heard his heartbeat; the last that he'd hear him breathe; the last he'd see the cocky grin plastered on Dean's lips. 

Fear kills those that are vulnerable, someone had once told him. Don't let it consume you into nothingness. If only he could follow that.

"Dean," he whispered, looking up at him. "You awake?"

After a moment, he awoke, letting out a tired snort. "Yeah," he grumbled, squinting slightly. 

"I want to show you something," he said. 

"Okay..."

Castiel smiled and sat up, moving towards his bag and went through it. After a moment, he had taken out his digital camera, waving it in front of Dean's face.

"What is that?" He inquired, furrowing his brows.

"A camera," he said. Obviously. "It has some things from back then." He was referring to a couple years ago, when they had first met. "I thought you'd like to see them."

"God, I swear it's already my funeral." Cas shot him a look. "Fine, fine! Let's see them." Cas smiled as he then agreed, and then sat by his side once again, showing him the camera.

As he went throughout the pictures, he stopped when he stared at the photo of Dean. His gaze was beautiful, yet ancient. His emerald green eyes glinted with life and happiness, and he didn't recognize him anymore. Cas stared at the photo in awe, not realizing that Dean had been calling his name. Looking at him after a moment, the male said:

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"You started to cry." Did he? Wiping his tears on his cheeks, he offered him a sad smile. "Are you alright?" No.

"Yes," he said, nodding a bit too vigorous. Dean narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything. 

Shoving it out of the way, the male changed the photo, noting them on Christmas day. He didn't remember the photo being taken, but it must have been Sam. Smiling softly as he remembered, he touched the chain around his neck that Dean had given him. He would always remember their first holiday together. Dean's head was thrown back with laughter, and Cas had a panicked look on his face. 

He then laid his eyes upon a photo with Dean looking at the ocean, his demeanor serene and content. He wished they could go back to these days, when nothing was dramatic. 

"I didn't know these were taken," Dean whispered. Castiel looked at him for a moment and grinned. Without saying anything, the male continued to show him the photos on the camera. Most of them consisted of he and himself, while some had Jesper and Sam in them, as well as Jess, Sam's newfound girlfriend.

But as they continued to look throughout them, Castiel had noticed that Dean began to cry. He never cried. Holding the male close, the angelic-like male kissed his cheek and murmured against his skin, "Don't cry."

"I can't believe you had taken these..." Dean shook his head. "They're wonderful."

"I want to go back," Castiel admitted.

"I do too," Dean replied, his voice broken.

Their relationship had been simple, but back then... They looked happy. Castiel admitted to himself that it was getting harder. He loved him, yes, but in their high school days, he felt as if he was dying without by his side. But until recently, he wasn't as dependent. 

And now, he felt that connection return. He was dying on the inside, seeing Dean this way. It was horrible, and he wanted to cry out with frustration. But he couldn't do that; he couldn't show this to the man he loved.

"I was going to propose," he whispered.

Dean quirked a brow at what he said, and his expression changed from depression to surprise. Cas fidgeted slightly.

"You were?" His voice was shallow.

"Yeah..." He smiled sadly. "But, well, you know... You got into the accident, so I couldn't."

Dean actually laughed. "I would have said yes," he then said.

"I know."

 

A week passed by, but Dean hadn't shown any progress. This unnerved Cass, and Sam had hurried from Standford—which was across the state—to get here. Jess had come and gone, not entirely feeling her welcome. Though Sam had never looked more afraid for his brother. Castiel's heart had broken to see the look on his face, but frankly, he felt the same way. Squeezing, the younger Winchester's hand, Castiel left the two alone. The brothers needed time together, and he understood that. They had a bond that could never be broken.

But as a few minutes passed, he watched as Sam exited the room, his eyes cloudy with tears. "Sam?" Cas inquired, moving towards him cautiously.

"It's nothing," he said, shaking his head.

"Sam," Cas said softly, "you can tell me anything."

"I know..." He sniffed. "It's just so hard, you know? Seeing Dean all broken all. He's only ever looked like this when we went on a hunting trip as kids and, well, accidentally got shot."

Cas flinched, unaware about this. But he wouldn't get angry, or even sad. Dean chose to keep it from him, and right now... Dean was on the midst of dying. Cas slowly closed his eyes and nodded.

"He will get better," Cas reassured him. "I promise you." He couldn't promise anything, but at least he tried.

"I hope you're right," was all he said before walking away, not sparing him one last glance. Cas understood, indeed. Yet it hurt so much.

"Sam," Cas stopped him, turning around to face the younger Winchester.

"Yeah?" Sam asked quietly.

"Take care of yourself." Sam smiled softly, murmuring it back before he finally left. He wasn't sure if Sam would return, but he wouldn't think too much about it. It was Sam's choice.


	10. Ten; Goodbyes and Death

"I will never let you go,

And even when your time is up,

I can never look back,

I can never fall in love again,

Because you were my world,

And I will love you to the end of my days."

 

 

They say that when two people are in love, that love won't last forever, but for the time it does, make the best out of it. But, shouldn't love be an undying feeling that lasts for an eternity?

Cas knew that he had fallen in love with this man, and even as he stared at his near-lifeless body, it was as if it were the first time he actually looked at him. The weeks had passed by so quickly, and he noticed that his love was hardly breathing, beating... His green eyes were closed; he was probably sleeping.

A sob escaped his lips, and he slowly brushed a hand against his cheek. "I love you so much," he whispered to his dying boyfriend.

Dean's eyes didn't open, nor did he move. Cas' brows furrowed slightly, but he continued to stroke his cheek. But as a few minutes passed, his curiosity got the best of him. He slowly moved his hand to touch his pulse, his hand shaking, his heart thumping at an increased rate.

What if he was dead?

But when he touched his pulse, it was low but steady. He let out a relieved sigh, burrowing his head in his shoulder. "God, I'm stupid." He laughed softly, but he felt as if the Winchester couldn't hear him.

Dean would be fine; he had only been in a car crash. Most people usually survive them, right? At least, that's what he hoped. And Dean... he was the strongest man he had ever known. He was beautiful, macho and kind. It would be a pity if he... No. He couldn't think like that anymore. Dean would live, he knew that. He wouldn't go upstairs yet.

Dean would grow old, they would have a white picket fence and a home with children. They would live a happy life with Jesper, too, and Sam and his knew girlfriend Jess would be keep in touch. They would probably forget about this time someday. 

There would be a time they wouldn't have to worry. There would be a time when they could just laugh about this whole situation on how he thought he'd die... He believed this. He made himself believe that this would happen, because it would. And he had no doubts whatsoever.

Smiling weakly, the male stroked the older Winchester's cheek softly, feeling the rough stubble on his skin. He was gorgeous, despite his pale skin and cracked lips. He look ill--dead. But he would soon look healthy, for sure. He leaned forward and kissed his dry lips softly, not recognizing the taste and texture. Frowning softly, he leaned against his chest and listened to the male's heartbeat. It was slow and small, but it was still there. Thankfully.

"You know," he whispered to him, "one day we'll live how we did before. This day will just be a joke... A distant memory. We'll be with Jesper and have a home--a real, good home--just to ourselves. We will laugh and listen to classic rock and the Weeknd... We'll dance to music like Elvis and Red Hot Chille Peppers. You will kiss me and say that you will never let me go..." He started to cry, but he didn't know why. He just became... weak. "And I will say: I know. I will hold you in my arms and kiss you a thousand times, snap pictures of you making the Blue Steel face. We will go to the beach... To Vegas..."

He looked at Dean, seeing the faintest smile spread across his lips--but it was barely there. at least he knew Dean was listening to his voice; knowing what he had told him. He was imagining it too, he supposed. Because they both wanted it, right? They were together for years without many problems, and he had forgotten most of them. He sometimes thought the were the perfect couple, but that was wrong--but he'd like to believe it, though. 

~

He died on Thursday, November 3rd.

The weather was dark and gloomy, no light shining upon Louisiana.

It was something you'd expect in Winter--and when someone you loved had died.

Cass, surprisingly, wasn't as upset as he thought he'd be. He cried for a good five hours atop of his body, not letting the nursers to take him away. But eventually, they broke him free and allowed him to grieve alone in the hall. He looked at the door, his gaze blank and clouded. Dean should have lived. This car crash shouldn't have killed him.

Whoever did this to him deserved to die.

A hand touched his shoulder, causing him to jump. But when he looked up, he found Sam staring right at him, his eyes red and puffy from tears. "Hey," he murmured, sitting down beside him.

"Hello," Cass simply said, looking back at the door. He pictured Dean walking out of it, healthy and alive. He would have his cocky smile plastered over his face, and his emerald eyes would be alight with mischief and beauty. His skin would have been tanned, and he would have brought him to Vegas, or something nice after all of this. They could have gotten that house with the picket fence; they could have gotten married.

"So..." Sam began. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he replied with a careless shrug. "How are you feeling?" He then looked at the younger Winchester.

"I've been better," he admitted. Cass laughed, but there was no amusement to it. He didn't think he could truly laugh again. After a moment, Sam said, "Sometimes I wish he never joined the police career."

"Same," Cass whispered. "But it is what it is, y'know. It was good for him at first. He needed something to do; he needed to save and help people. But in the end... it only hurt him." He wouldn't let the tears come. Not this time.

"Yeah." Sam looked at him, trying to force a smile, but it instantly dropped. The day of Dean's death shouldn't bring happiness--only tears and depression. And it was already affecting the two. A sudden awkward silence spread between the two, and he couldn't handle it no longer.

Cass stood up and said, "I have to go." Without waiting for a reply, he had retreated outside the building, knowing the Winchester hadn't followed him. He saw Dean's impala that he had used to get here and jumped into the vehicle. God, it was suffocating to be in here. It smelt like him, felt like him... It was him. But despite it, he started the care, instantly turning off the classic rock and drove off.

He didn't know where he was going.

Maybe home so he could think. Maybe the beach so he could be calm. Maybe Vegas so he can get drunk and pass out. Or maybe... He can just run and never look back, live a new life and try to get through this.

But whatever he chose, he knew he wouldn't be able to get over his death. He was lost, afraid and tired. 

But one day, Cass thought to himself, I will be with the man I loved. I will see him upstairs.


End file.
